


Finale

by Clowns_or_Midgets



Series: The Sound Of Silence [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aphasia, Azazel (Supernatural)'s Special Children, Betrayal, Cold Oak Scenario, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mute Sam Winchester, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-16 23:46:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19328563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clowns_or_Midgets/pseuds/Clowns_or_Midgets
Summary: Time is up for Sam and the other Special Children. The Yellow-Eyed Demon is setting his plan in motion and it's a fight to the death.Beta'd by JenjoremyPre-read by Ncsupnatfan and VegasGranny





	1. Chapter 1

Sam was sitting on Bobby’s porch, watching the sun rise and sipping a coffee.

He’d woken in the early hours from a nightmare, and he hadn’t wanted to return to it, so he’d got up to make himself a coffee and come outside.

In the dream, he’d been with Gordon again, suspended from the roof beam, and the knife had been moving closer and closer to his eye. He woke at the moment the tip touched it and the blood had begun to flow. It was a common dream in the three weeks since he’d been rescued by Dean, John, and Bobby, and he was starting to think it would never go away.

The frustrating part was that he couldn’t explain his fears to anyone, to get reassurance. He knew Gordon was dead, but he didn’t know how many others Gordon had told about his visions before he had died. He had no idea how many other hunters were out there now, waiting for their chance to come for him. He was scared, and he wasn’t a man that scared easy.

His fear had stopped him going with them when John and Dean had gone to The Roadhouse the night before to check in with Ash and his tracking program. He didn’t want to dangle himself in front of a bar full of hunters that might also want him dead. He made himself understood when they’d told him what they were going to do, refusing their requests for him to go, and now, with Bobby joined with up with another hunter for a werewolf hunt, he was alone.

He didn’t mind being alone; it was peaceful. There was no need for him to talk, so it didn’t matter that he couldn’t. He felt almost normal.

It was easier when he was just with Dean, John, and Bobby as there was no expectation for him to talk, but when he’d met Ava, fresh from Gordon’s clutches and bleeding copiously, she’d quizzed him on what had happened and he’d seen her shock and pity as they explained why he wasn’t answering her. He had to sit in silence as Bobby patched up his wounds and John and Dean quizzed her in return about her dreams and life. She’d had no nursery fire when she was a baby, her mother was still alive, which meant she broke the pattern they’d assumed they were working with. If not all of them had the fire, there could be far more people like Sam out there. By mutual agreement, Sam’s unspoken, they’d decided not to tell her what they knew about the demon and its influence on her life. 

He’d been relieved when she’d left and gone home.

As the sun flooded the sky with light and color, he drained the rest of his coffee and stood. He thought he would get some breakfast and then send Dean a text. They had an arrangement now that Sam could send anything, no matter how nonsensical, and Dean would reply with an update on what they were doing and an estimate of how long they would be gone.

He turned back into the house and then stopped as he heard an engine behind him. He turned back and saw a red van approaching the house and pulling to a stop. A tall man climbed out and came toward Sam, a wide smile in place.

“Hey,” the man said, his voice friendly. “I’m sorry to come so early, but I’m looking for John Winchester and I heard he was staying here. Say, are you his son, Sam?”

Sam nodded.

“Great. I was looking for you, too.”

The man came closer and Sam automatically stepped back. He felt a sense of unease about this man. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but he didn’t trust him.

The man raised his hands in front of him, palm up. “I’m not going to hurt you kid. I just want to talk.”

Sam shook his head and turned away and grabbed the door handle. He wanted to get inside and lock the door behind him. It wasn’t like him to be such a coward, but he was sure there was something about this man that was wrong, dangerous even.

He had the door open but before he could step through it, he felt something slam into his back, driving him forward onto the floor as the air rushed out of him and he dropped his mug. He scrambled to his knees and crawled away but hands grabbed his ankles and dragged him back onto the porch.

He flipped onto his back and kicked out, fighting to free himself, but the man was no longer alone. There was a tall woman with him and she was holding a tire iron that she slammed into his midriff, making him curl over and groan with pain.

“Get in there and grab his stuff and pick up that cup,” the man said. “Make sure it’s his clothes and not the other’s. It got to look like a runaway again. These aren’t the kind of people we want chasing us down, especially as they have the Colt. Watch out for the traps”

Through his pain, Sam felt a thrill of fear separate to what he already felt for himself. The Colt was in the house, locked in the safe with the combination known only to Sam, Dean, John, and Bobby, but they might be able to crack it.

The woman stepped on Sam’s hand as she passed him and entered the house, and Sam cried out as he felt something break.

Sam was hauled up by his injured hand, and though he tried to fight through it, to free himself, the man was too strong and Sam suspected he was a demon. His hands were yanked behind him and he felt something snick around his wrists that cut into the skin. He was dragged over to the van and man yanked open the side door and shoved Sam inside. He landed hard on his injured hand and it screamed in pain.

Scared and helpless, Sam rolled over as his legs were bent roughly and the door slammed behind him. He looked around the small space in the dim light that came through the dirty rear windows. He was shocked at what he saw. There were three others in there: two men and a woman. They were wide-eyed and scared looking, their own hands restrained behind them. The men looked like they were fighting tears, but the woman was looking at Sam with relief and Sam recognized her. Ava.

“Sam,” she breathed. “Oh, thank God. Are the rest of your family here?”

Sam shook his head.

She bit her lip. “But they’ll come? They saved you from that madman. They’ll do it again, right? They’ll save us?”

Sam stared at her, deciding whether to answer honestly or not. They would try, he knew, but how would they find him? His phone was in the house so they couldn’t track his GPS. They were taking his stuff so it would look like he’d taken off on his own. Would they believe he would do that or would they start looking straight away?

“Sam,” Ava pressed.

Sam nodded, his eyes hard, and she sighed with relief. She was reassured. Sam wasn’t.

xXx

Dean and John had just passed Vermillion on their way back to Bobby’s, and Dean was relaxed behind the wheel.

They’d stayed later at The Roadhouse than they’d intended, talking late into the night with Ellen and Ash after closing, checking on Ash’s progress with the program and subtly scouting any information on Gordon Walker. They’d not heard anything about him when they asked vaguely, so they assumed no one had realized what had happened to him yet. They knew the body had been found as it had made the local paper, but he’d carried no genuine ID so they’d not been able to track anyone down to inform.

Dean was glad of it. He liked the idea of that bastard in a morgue freezer for weeks until he was given an anonymous cremation and his ashes dumped in a storage facility somewhere. 

They’d not told Ellen what had happened. Though they trusted her, none of them wanted anyone new in on the secret. They’d told Ava that Gordon had been stopped but not how he had been killed by John. They didn’t know enough about her to know if she’d keep quiet about it. Only Dean, Sam, John and Bobby knew what had really happened in that barn, and they wanted to keep it that way.

Dean was looking forward to getting back to Sam. If he was up already, they could have breakfast together before Dean crashed for a few hours’ sleep. If he wasn’t, Dean could maybe wake him up to something good instead of the panting and wide-eyed fear of another nightmare.

Sam was having them a lot, and though he couldn’t tell them what they were about, Dean suspected it was Gordon. If he’d been through what Sam had, he would have nightmares, too.

John was leaning back in his seat, staring out of the window with a thoughtful look on his face. The stereo was playing an AC/DC album of his choosing. The air around them was comfortable and peaceful. For a while, the tension of what they were living with wasn’t reaching them. Dean was hoping they could transfer some of that feeling to Sam when they got home.

John’s phone rang and he took it from his pocket without urgency and answered with a relaxed, “Hey, Bobby, are you back already?”

Dean glanced at him and saw the moment his face stiffened into tension and he sat bolt upright and said, “What? Hold on. I’m putting you on speaker.” He lowered the phone and pressed a button and then held it up between them. “Say that again.”

 _“Sam’s taken off,”_ Bobby said.

Dean’s question was a shout as he asked, “He’s what?”

_“I got home about an hour ago and went to check on him since he wasn’t downstairs; I figured he might be struggling again. He wasn’t in his room and his stuff is mostly gone. The drawers were open and emptied.”_

“No,” Dean said. “Sam wouldn’t do that.”

_“I didn’t think so either, but he has.”_

Dean shook his head jerkily and put his foot down hard on the accelerator, speeding them back to the house.

“Did he leave anything behind that might tell us where he’s gone?” John asked.

 _“Like a note?”_ Bobby said, a touch of anger in his voice. _“He can’t, John. There’s nothing. Well… there’s his cell. Wherever he’s gone, he doesn’t want us following.”_

Dean’s heart was racing. Sam wouldn’t take off on them. Where would he go and how would he cope without his voice? He couldn’t do anything alone. And there was no way he would do this to them. Maybe he would’ve before, when he’d been struggling with John and his confession, but after they’d rescued him from Gordon, something had changed between them. A deeper connection than they’d ever shared before had been forged between them and Sam wouldn’t abandon him now.

“He’s not taken off,” Dean said. “Something took him.”

 _“I’m just telling you what I’m seeing,”_ Bobby said. _“He’s not here. His stuff is gone. His cell is here.”_

“What if he had a vision?” Dean said, clinging to the idea as it was the only explanation he could think of. “He wouldn’t have been able to call and tell us. He’d have to go alone.”

“He took his stuff, Dean,” John said quietly.

“No!”

John sighed. “Okay, Bobby, I’ve got to make a couple calls. Stay there in case he comes back and call us if you hear anything.”

What would he hear though? Sam couldn’t call them to tell them what was happening. He couldn’t even send a text to explain. He was completely helpless to contact them at all. The only thing he could do was come back, and if Dean was right, if someone or thing had taken him, he didn’t stand a chance.

John ended the call and then checked something on his phone and typed out a text.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked. “He’s not got his phone.”

John didn’t answer. He just dialed a number and brought the phone to his ear. When he was answered, he spoke in a rush of words. “Ash, I just sent you some bank details. Yeah, I know what time it is and I don’t care. I want you to track those accounts and find out where and when they were last used. Now!”

Dean veered around a truck that was going too slow and they sped ahead of it. John jostled but didn’t comment. Dean knew he was just as eager to get to Bobby’s to see for themselves what Bobby had found there.

“Where?” John barked. “How much?” He closed his eyes and his face morphed into pain before it became anger again. “I want you to keep checking. If it’s used, I want to know straight away, you understand? Good. No, I don’t want to tell you what’s happening. I don’t want this making the rounds in the bar either. Keep your mouth shut. I’ll be in touch.”

He snapped the phone closed and stared out of the windshield for a moment in silence.

“Well?” Dean snapped.

“He hit two ATMs and took out almost all of his balance, which wasn’t much. He’s got enough for a bus to basically anywhere though.”

“He’s not on a bus,” Dean growled. “He’s not taken off on his own.”

John gave him a pitying look. “Then why did he take his stuff?” He shook his head. “I don't want to hear it either, Dean, but I think it’s the only explanation. Whatever happened, he’s gone for a while, and he wouldn’t need his stuff if it was just a vision thing. No. I think…” He sighed. “I think he’s gone.”

xXx

Shortly after Sam had been grabbed, they stopped again and the door had been yanked open by the black-eyed man who had grabbed Sam by the collar and dragged him upright.

“Pin code,” he’d growled, holding up Sam’s wallet making him realize they’d grabbed his jacket as well as his clothes. He wondered if they’d taken his cell phone. Maybe if they weren’t too smart, they would have left the GPS turned on so Dean and John could track him down.

Sam just glared at him and the demon punched him across the cheek. It wasn’t landed hard enough to cause the full pain a demon’s strength could. It was more of an insult, a gesture to show Sam’s helplessness.

“Pin!”

“He can’t tell you,” Ava said when Sam shook his head. “He can’t talk.”

The demon’s brows contracted. “What the hell?”

“Something happened to him,” she said. “He can’t talk anymore.”

“Well,” the demon said with an amused widening on the eyes, “This is going to be really interesting for you Winchester. How about this? I hold up my fingers and you tell me when I’m right.”

Sam shook his head again.

The demon reached into the van and grabbed Ava by the hair and dragged her towards him. She cried out in pain and Sam made an inarticulate sound of protest, making the demon laugh.

“Refuse me again and I’ll start really hurting her,” he said, holding up his fisted hands. “Nod when I get to the right number.”

He held up one finger then two and Sam nodded. With a satisfied grin, the demon started again and Sam nodded then he reached four. When he had the whole sequence, the demon shoved Sam backward and slammed the door closed.

“Is this why they want us?” one of the men asked. “For our money? He didn’t want my number.”

Sam wanted to ask if anyone else’s stuff had been taken, too, but he had no way to ask. All he could do was try to roll himself into a less painful position and wait as the front door of the van closed and they started moving again.

He puzzled over the demon’s behavior. Sam hardly had any money in his account at all, and he’d never heard of demons that wanted cash before. They were usually after chaos and destruction.

“Never mind the money,” a second man with a faint Brooklyn accent said. “Why does he have black eyes. Is this some kind of goth cult thing?”

Sam shook his head but he didn’t think anyone saw in the dim light of the van’s interior.

Since the fire, since he lost his voice, he had struggled many times in ways he couldn’t have imagined, but this was among the most frustrating of all—only eclipsed by the woman he’d seen die without being able to give her a word of comfort. He knew more than all the people in this van combined, but he had no way to share any of it with them. He couldn’t explain anything. If he was right, and the age of the people around him and Ava’s presence made him think he was, they were going to need each other to make it through.

If Sam was right, this was the demon’s endgame at last. He was gathering the special children and preparing to put his plan—whatever that was—into action.

xXx

The first thing Sam became aware of was the pain in his throbbing hand and the voices around him. He groaned and opened his eyes, seeing a cloudy sky above him that dark birds circled in.

He rolled onto his side and pushed himself to his feet, surprised but pleased to see his hands had been unbound. He was on muddy ground in front of a rickety building with glassless windows and clapboards peeling away from the walls. Ava and one of the men were standing close to him, and the other was still lying unconscious on the ground.

They seemed to be in some kind of old-world town that had clearly been abandoned at least a hundred years before. The place they were on had probably been Main Street but there were small alleys leading off of it. There was a water tower at the end of the road held on a high wooden frame. 

Sam bent beside the man lying on the ground and tapped his cheek. He wished he could use words to rouse him, but he had none that would make sense. The man’s eyes rolled under their lids and then opened. He looked up at Sam and then scrambled away from him, shuffling on his hands and butt.

Sam straightened up and raised his hands as a gesture of reassurance.

“What happened?” the man asked.

“I don’t remember,” Ava said. “One minute I was in the van and the door was open, the next I was here. They must have knocked us out.”

“They gave us a shot,” the first man said. “They did you first… Sam is it? Was that your name.”

Sam nodded.

“And you can’t talk?”

“He can’t,” Ava answered for him. “He was in some kind of accident. But his family are kinda special, and I’m sure they’re looking for us as well as the cops.”

“You think,” the man said.

“I’m sure.”

The man shrugged. “That’s great, I guess. I‘m Nate.”

“Ava.”

“I’m Chris,” the man on the ground said, getting to his feet and looking around. “Where the hell are we? And why are we here? Those people grabbed me out of my dorm in the middle of the night and stuffed me in that van without telling me a word.”

“I was at home,” Ava said. “I’d just gone to bed with my fiancé. God, I hope he’s okay.”

“I was on my way to work,” Nate said. “They came out of nowhere and they seemed to know who I was.” He looked around. “Who were those guys., and why are we here?”

“No idea,” Chris said. “But I’m not hanging around.” He looked up and down the streets. “It looks like we’re in a forest or something. I say we start walking until we find a road.”

Sam shook his head briskly. 

“Why not?” Ava asked.

Sam closed his eyes and wished for what felt like the millionth time that he could talk.

He didn’t know why the demon had brought them here, but he knew it wasn’t for anything good, and he was sure they would not be able to leave as easily as that. Somehow, they were trapped here, and he didn’t want to lead them to their deaths by letting them try to leave. They at least had to find a way to arm themselves before trying.

Sam pointed at them each in turn and then over his shoulder to one of the buildings. Though he knew he couldn’t really defend them without a weapon of some sort, he didn’t want to leave them alone out here.

“You want us to come?” Nate asked.

Sam nodded.

“Why?”

Sam threw up his hands in frustration. He’d not realized properly how much his family did for him by accommodating his lack of voice in the way they interacted with him. They’d had longer to get used to it, and Dean had always known him better than anyone else, but it must have been hard for them. He’d been with these people in this place, with them able to question him, for less than five minutes, but they were not listening to what Ava told them. He couldn’t talk and he couldn’t make them understand what he wanted.

“Look, buddy, you’ve got this kickass family and all that,” Chris said. “And that’s great for you, but we’ve been kidnapped, drugged, and dumped here, and I for one am pretty eager to get away. We don’t know when they’ll come back for us, so we need to get out of here while we’ve got the chance.”

Sam squeezed his eyes shut in frustration and shook his head.

“Maybe Sam’s right,” Ava said. “We might find something to help us here. We don’t know how far we are from a road or even house here. It could take days. We at least need water. Let’s just look around to see what we can find first.”

“How are we going to carry water?” Nate asked.

Ava bit her lip. “We might find something…”

“Or we might waste time looking when we could be getting out of here.”

Sam held up his uninjured hand, his fingers splayed.

“Five?” Ava asked. “You want five minutes.”

Sam nodded. If they would just give him time to find something to arm himself with, he would go with them.

“Okay,” Nate said. “Five minutes.”

Chris huffed in frustration, but when Sam walked toward the closest building and entered it, he followed Ava and Nate after him.

It was bare of everything but dirt and ragged blankets piled in one corner, and Sam moved them onto the next building and saw something that made the hair on the back of his neck prickle with unease. There was a large plastic crate in the corner with a partially open lid.

He approached it slowly and opened it. Inside he saw enough to make his heart race with understanding. There was a knife with a blade at least ten inches long. Bottles of water and boxes with US Army insignia on them and MRE stamped on the side were beneath the knife.

“Water!” Nate said triumphantly, grabbing a bottle and unscrewing the cap.

“Don’t!” Ava said. “What if it’s poisoned?”

Nate rolled his eyes. “They wouldn’t dump us in the middle of nowhere just to poison us. If they wanted us dead, they would have killed us instead of kidnapping us.”

Chris grabbed the knife and said, “Okay, we’re armed. Let’s go.”

“Wait,” Nate said, grabbing two bottles of water and stowing them in the pockets of his jacket so they bulged the cloth and the caps poked out of the top.

“We shouldn’t do this,” Sam said, driven to attempt to speak with his worry.

They all looked at him blankly and Sam sighed. Of course, he had made no sense.

“I’m not sure what you’re trying to say, but I’m getting out of here,” Chris said. “Who’s coming?”

Nate raised his hand and Ava looked at Sam for a moment, frowning as he shook his head vigorously, and then she said, “I’m sorry, Sam, but we’ve got to get out of here.”

Sam groaned and then nodded and pushed past them and out the door. If they were going to be stupid enough to do this, he was going in front to do what he could to defend them. He would let Chris hold the knife as to take it from him might end in bloodshed anyway and he would hope that there was something innocuous keeping them in the town, not the violent threats he was imagining.

They got out into the fresh air and Sam started toward the water tower that stood in front of the trees. On the way there, he saw something buried in the dirt that he stopped and unearthed. It was a long strip of metal like a tire iron. He couldn’t be sure it was made of iron so didn’t know if it would be any defense against a demon or ghost, but it was something of a weapon. Its presence couldn’t be a coincidence. The knife had been left for them, and he was sure this had, too. He wondered what other weapons were hidden around the place.

They passed the tower and entered the trees. Sam felt no menace within them, and for the space of a few minutes he let himself believe they really might have a chance of getting out alive, and then a howl rent the air.

He came to a dead stop and held up a hand. Nate, Chris, and Ava stopped with him and looked around.

“What the hell was that?” Chris asked, lifting the knife.

“It had to be some kind of wolf or dog,” Nate said.

Ava shuddered. “That didn’t sound like any dog I’ve ever heard.”

Sam hadn’t heard a howl like that before either, but he had a suspicion he knew what it was. He’d read enough in Bobby’s library since losing his voice to know that hellhounds’ howls were unlike any other kind of canine.

He grabbed Ava’s arm and turned her and then pushed her away back towards the town. She stumbled forward and then stopped and said in a weak voice. “What’s coming, Sam?”

Sam grabbed Chris and Nate and began to drag them back, too, but they resisted and then there was another howl, this time closer.

“Run!” Sam shouted, not knowing what random word had come out.

Ava seemed to understand the message as she started away and broke into a stumbling run, but Chris ran in the other direction while Nate stood frozen.

“Chris, stop!” Sam bellowed, starting after him.

He was fast but Chris was faster and Sam hadn’t reached him when the creature attacked. Sam couldn’t see it, but he saw the disturbance of earth as its paws sprang up. Chris fell back as the hellhound collided with him and he hit the ground hard, air rushing out of him as a heavy weight pinned him down. He started to scream and Sam swung the tire iron he had through the air above Chris’ chest. He felt it impact something, but there was no give. He could just as easily have swung at a brick wall. 

There was a menacing growl and then a howl of pain as long wounds appeared on Chris’ chest, exposing ribs for a moment before the gush of blood occluded them.

“Ava, Nate, run!”

Sam snatched the knife out of Chris’s hand and stabbed at the air above his chest. The tip of the blade was knocked away by something solid and then there was another growl. Sam was thrown onto his back by a weight that pressed down on his chest and made it hard to breathe. He felt warm air on his cheek and something wet dripped onto his neck, and he waited for the killing blow to come from the hellhound, but there was no rake of claws or jaws clamped into his neck. He felt that he was being assessed and considered by the creature. He lifted the knife again and tried to stab it into the creature’s side, but once again, it was knocked away.

The weight held him for a moment and then left him panting and terrified on the ground. He heard pounding paws on the dirt, growing quieter as it moved away, and Sam pushed himself up onto his elbows and then crawled over to Chris.

He was too late to even try to help, not that he could have done more than hold his hand as he died, as life had already left him; his eyes stared blankly up at the trees and his lips were still parted by his last lost breath.

Sam closed his eyes and then got to his feet, picked up the tire iron and tucked it in his pants, still holding the knife, and walked back to where Nate stood immobile.

“Is he dead?”  he asked weakly.

Sam nodded.

“What was that? What killed him?”

“Hellhound,” Sam said, knowing he wouldn’t be understood but tired of the pantomime.

Nate gaped at him. “A hellhound?”

Sam’s heart leaped. “You understood me?”

Nate frowned. “I didn’t get a word of that, but you said hellhound. What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sam shook his head and grabbed his arm. They needed to get out of the forest and find Ava, away from the hellhound’s territory.

Nate walked with him and Sam’s mind reeled with what had happened. Chris had been killed but Sam was left to live, as had Nate. What had stopped the hellhound from killing them? Was Chris special or trapped here as cannon fodder for the demon’s plan? Were they safe from the hounds as they were the Demon’s children? He didn’t know the answer and he had another pressing, and infinitely more selfish question that he wanted answered more.

Nate had understood one word he’d spoken. Was it pure chance that it had come out understandably, or was Sam getting his words back?


	2. Chapter 2

Ava was standing in the doorway to the building they’d found the knife and food in, her hands covering her mouth and her eyes wide with fear. As Sam and Nate approached, she dropped her hands and whispered, “Chris?”

Sam shook his head and Nate said, “He’s dead,” in a flat voice as if shock had stolen all emotion from him.

Ava gave a muffled scream and backed into the building.

Sam gestured Nate in ahead of him and then followed him inside.

Looking around properly, he saw that it had once been a store of some kind. There were shelves on the walls and a counter that leaned slightly to the left. The main area of the place was bare now, the plastic crate they’d been left standing out incongruously.

Ava sank down onto the floor in the corner and drew her legs up to her chest. Nate stared at her for a moment and then moved to stand beside her.

“What happened?” Ava whispered.   

Sam closed his eyes for a moment, willing the words to come, and said, “He was killed by a hellhound.”

He chanced a glance at them and saw they both looked blank. Whatever words he had spoken hadn’t made sense to them.

He shook his head and pointed at Nate. He knew enough to tell Ava what he had seen.

“It was like a dog or something,” Nate said, “But it was invisible. It tore him apart. It attacked you, too, didn’t it, Sam? I saw it knock you down.”

Sam nodded.

“But it didn’t hurt you?”

Sam shook his head again.

“Why not?”

Sam shrugged. He wasn’t sure of the answer and had no certain reason to offer them even if he could speak.

He could see two possible explanations for what had happened. One was that the hellhound had orders only to keep them in the town and thought its message had been delivered with Chris’ death. The other was that Chris had never been one of the ones the Demon wanted. Ava had to be, but Chris and Nate could have been sent as cannon fodder to be killed to warn them of what would happen if they tried to leave.

“What are we going to do if we can’t get out?” Ava asked.

“We wait for someone to come for us,” Nate said. “My father has money. If this is a ransom thing, he’ll pay. Would your people pay?”

“My fiancé would,” Ava said. “But we don’t have much. I’m not exactly the ideal candidate for a ransom.” She gave Sam an apologetic look. “You’re not either, are you, Sam?”

Sam shook his head.

“And what kind of kidnappers have invisible dogs working for them?” she went on. “That’s just… it’s impossible. There are no such things as invisible dogs.”

Nate bristled. “Well, I know what I saw. Chris was torn apart and Sam knocked down, but there was nothing there. Well… Sam _said_ it was a hellhound.”

Ava snorted. “A what?”

“Hellhound,” Sam said.

Ava’s eyes widened. “Okay, you’re either saying the wrong word again, or you’re nuts. There’s no such thing as hellhounds.”

“Or visions?” Sam asked.

He knew the word had come out wrong by their blank looks, but he was determined to make his message clear so he pointed from Ava to himself then at his eyes and mimed sleeping.

Nate frowned and Ava blushed.

“That’s different,” she said. “That happens and we both know it. People have those… abilities. They’re all over the internet, but hellhounds aren’t.”

“What are you talking about?” Nate asked,

Ava looked down at the floor. “Nothing,” she mumbled.

“I call bullshit,” Nate said. “You two know each other already and you’re obviously hiding something, so I want to know what. We’ve been kidnapped by some crazy cult with black eyes and I just saw a man get mauled by an invisible dog. Sam isn’t saying a damn word that makes sense apart from hellhound, and I’m not sure that makes sense either. I’m kinda freaking out, so how about we dump the secrets and you tell me what the _hell_ is going on!” His voice had risen to an almost hysterical pitch by the end and his breaths came hard.

Sam felt sorry for him and wished once again that he had his words. He looked pointedly at Ava then pressed his hand to his mouth and then back to her. His message was clear to him at least—I can’t talk so you have to—but Ava obviously didn’t want to see it. She frowned and said, “I don’t know what you’re trying to…” Sam glared at her and she sighed. “Fine, but when he runs away from the crazy people, you can be the one to chase him through the monster forest.”

Sam nodded.

“Okay, I met Sam once before when I found his family to help them save him,” she said. “I had this dream of Sam in trouble so I tracked him down and told them what I saw.”

Nate frowned. “You had a dream of him and it came true?”

Sam held up two fingers and she nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“I had two dreams that came true. In one I saw this man get stabbed in a parking lot, and a week later I saw his face in the paper. The article said it had happened just like I saw. When I dreamed of Sam in trouble, I thought I had to try to stop it, so I did. I was too late to stop him being taken, but his family were able to get him back before he was killed.”

Nate gaped. “Killed!”

Sam struggled to unbutton his shirt with one properly working hand and exposed his chest, still marked with the red healing scars left by Gordon’s blade.

“He was hurt,” Ava said quietly.

Sam pressed his hands to his head and screwed up his face in pain and then gestured to Ava.

“Yeah, okay.” She addressed Nate. “It started almost two years ago, around my twenty-second birthday. I started getting these headaches and weird dreams. They didn’t make much sense and I thought they were just nightmares, but when I saw that man, Scott, die, I realized they might be coming true. That’s what we’re hiding. We both have these dreams that come true. Sam’s had them when he’s awake, too, but I haven’t.”

Nate’s face was stony, and Sam wondered if he was thinking they were insane, maybe part of his kidnap plot, then he sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping and said, “And this was after your birthday? Headaches?”

Sam’s heart skipped and he pointed at Nate.

“Yeah,” he said. “Me too.”

“You have vision dreams?” Ava asked.

“No. Mine’s a little… different,” Nate said. “I can…” He lifted a hand and held it out, palm up, to the crate of supplies they’d been left. The lid slowly rose and drifted to the floor and was gently set down.

Sam’s eyes widened. Nate was like Max: telekinetic. At least he had the same ability; Sam had to hope that was the extent of the similarity as Max had also been a murderer.

Ava gasped. “That’s crazy!”

“Crazier than dreams of the future?” Nate asked, a bite of anger in his voice.

“No, I guess not.”

“So…” Nate said slowly. “This is a crazy cult of kidnappers that want people like us or it’s pure coincidence that they got us.”

Sam crossed his arms over his chest and his jaw jutted out. “It’s not coincidence. They want us.”

Nate looked confused but Ava considered Sam a moment as if mulling over whatever words she had heard and trying to make sense of them. “Want? You think they want us for something?”

Sam nodded eagerly, exuberant that he was finally able to communicate even a little. He wondered how long he’d been able to do this. Had the months spent in silence at Bobby’s been wasted as his words were already returning but he’d not known? He hadn’t even tried to talk until Gordon had him, and that had been one word that came out wrong. Could he have been speaking to Dean for weeks but hadn’t known?

“What though?” Nate asked.

Sam closed the lid of the crate and sat down on it. Nate considered him a moment and then leaned against the wall and watched him expectantly as Sam tried to find the words. It only seemed to be random words in a sentence that came through right, so he had to keep the words small and sentences short.

“There’s a demon. He did something to us. We were babies. We have powers. He wants us. I don’t know why. He has a plan. I don’t know why we’re here. I don’t know what he wants. We have to fight it. It’s something bad.”

He stopped and stared at them, waiting to see if any of it had come through clearly enough for them to understand.

“A demon?” Nate said doubtfully. “You believe there are hellhounds and demons?”

Sam nodded.

Nate snorted. “Sure there are.”

Sam looked away from him, dismissing his doubt, and watched Ava as she frowned and untangled his words. “A demon and babies, right? That’s what you mean?”

Sam nodded.

“He wants babies? No… Okay. We’re babies? We _were_ babies?”

Sam nodded and held up six fingers.

“Six months?” Nate asked, his voice sounding stunned.

Sam’s eyes snapped to him and he nodded and pointed. “You? Fire?”

Nate ducked his head and said, “There was a fire when I was a baby, six months, one night when my parents were out. I was in my nursery and my nanny got me out. She…” He bit his lip. “She died from her burns. I was really ill for a while. I got through it though, obviously. They thought I was going to have brain damage… I was really messed up for a long time.”

Sam pointed at himself and nodded. “Me too.”

“Is that why you can’t talk?” Nate asked. “Because of a fire when you were a baby?”

Sam shook his head. “I was older. Months ago. It was the demon.”

“Months? Demon?”

Sam felt a rush of relief. He may not be able to tell them it all, but he could say _something_ that would help them. If he could tell them enough, they would be warned. They might be able to find a way to fight it together.

“Yes.” He knew from their frowns that he hadn’t made sense, so he nodded and waited expectantly.

“The demon took your words in a fire?” Nate asked.

Sam pointed at himself and mimed aiming a gun then pointed at his eyes. “The demon had yellow eyes. I tried to kill him. There was a fire. I was in the smoke too long.”

Nate’s lips moved as he murmured words that sounded like nonsense with only a few words Sam had intended to speak. “You had a gun and you were trying to kill this ‘demon’?”

Sam nodded.

“Do you have the gun still?”

Sam shook his head.

“Who has it?”

Sam huffed and looked at Ava who said, “I don’t have it!”

Sam patted his chest twice and gave her a pointed look. “Dad. Dean.”

“Dean? Oh, they have it? That’s great! They just have to find us, or this ‘demon’ and we’ll be rescued.”

Sam didn’t think it would be that easy, but he wasn’t going to take away the idea that would comfort them both so he smiled and nodded.

“You really think they’ll be able to kill someone?” Nate asked.

“Demon. Yes,” Sam said with a nod.

“And when you say demon, you mean some kind of crazy cult person, right?” Nate asked.

Sam shook his head and pointed at his eyes again.

“The eyes that man had? The black contacts?”

Sam shook his head. “Not contacts.”

He could see he had made no sense, but he thought he had told them enough for them to understand a little of it at least. He stood up and lifted the lid of the crate then rooted through it to see what else that had been left. There were blankets and boxes, and at the bottom of the crate, a small first aid kit. With relief, he managed to get it open and found a roll of Ace Bandage. He carried it to Nate and held it out then his injured hand, which was now swollen.

“Please,” he said.

Nate nodded and took the bandage from him. “Sure. I’ll wrap it up. But what are we going to do next? What if those dog things come here for us?”

“They won’t,” Sam said.

Neither Nate nor Ava seemed to have understood what he’d said, so he walked to the door and dragged it closed carefully, not sure if the hinges would hold if he made it more of a statement by slamming it.

“You really think a door can keep it out?” Ava asked.

Sam walked back to Nate and held out his hand. “We stay in town. It won’t come. We’re safe.”

He knew it had made some sense as Nate quirked a brow and said, “Sure. We’re plenty safe.”

Sam nodded and Nate sighed then began to wrap Sam’s hand. Sam was tired and sore, not to mention scared, but he couldn’t show it. He was the only one here with an idea of what was really happening and he had to show himself to be someone they could trust to help them. It was going to be hard to do if he couldn’t make them understand everything, but he was going to keep trying. As frustrating as it was to be limited in how much he could say, it was infinitely better than being without a voice to speak to them at all.

It was something when they had very little.

xXx

Night fell faster than Sam expected as he’d lost track of the movements of the sun, making him realize that the time they’d spent unconscious after the demons had drugged them was longer than he’d previously believed. They were huddled in the old store still, none of them talking.

He’d found candles in the plastic crate and they lit four and set them around where they were sitting. They’d eaten three of the MRE ration packs hot after some careful examination of the heating kits. Sam had never seen them in use before, and Nate and Ava had never heard of them. They’d both been childishly impressed by the chemical reaction that had given them a hot meal, and Sam had been jealous of their short-lived wonder as it had taken away from their fear for a while. He’d not felt the same.

He was wondering how he was going to communicate the fact they needed to set a watch for the night so they could sleep, knowing that sleep was going to come eventually whether they wanted it or not. He had just started to speak when Ava shifted uncomfortably and said, “I’ve got a problem.”

Sam frowned. “What?”

Ava blushed. “I need the bathroom.”

Nate’s head snapped up. “Finally, someone else said it.”

Sam huffed a laugh in spite of himself and they frowned. He held up a hand and said, “Sorry.”

His brows low over his hard eyes, Nate said, “So how are we going to handle this?”

Sam stood and looked out of the back, glassless window. There was a small hut one building down that he guessed from the crescent moon on the door was an outhouse.

“Here,” he said, pointing.

Ava and Nate peered out and then looked at him incredulously. “You want us to go out there? But you said we were safe in here. The monster dog wouldn’t attack.”

“Town is safe,” Sam said. “Trees not safe.”

“You think it won’t come into town?” Nate asked.

Sam nodded. “If we don’t leave, we can live. The demon won’t want us dead. It brought us here for a reason.”

He knew some of his words had made sense as they looked a little appeased, but Ava said, “I’m still not sure I want to go out there. What if you’re wrong?”

“I’ll go first,” Sam said.

He picked up a candle then headed into a smaller room leading off of the one they’d been hiding in and saw what he’d been hoping for—a door that led out onto the back porch of the store. He opened it and stepped out into the cool night. He didn’t hesitate, knowing it would make Nate and Ava more nervous than they already were; he went straight to the outhouse and opened the door. Using the candle to light the space inside, he saw that there was a roughly cut wooden seat over a hole. He didn’t know how sturdy it would be after so long, so he would have to be careful if and when he needed to sit.

He set the candle on the floor and fumbled with the zipper of his pants, hindered by his still painful hand. He relieved himself and adjusted his clothes then picked up the candle and went back outside and looked around. There was a bucket swinging from a post, though any water it had once held had long since evaporated.

He brushed his hands on his pants and then went back toward the store where Ava and Nate were hovering at the door.

He held out the candle to Ava and said. “Be careful. The wood is old.”

Ava took a step forward and then moved back and said, “You can go first, Nate.”

“Sure,” he said. “I’ll risk certain death so you’re more confident.”

“Not death,” Sam said. “Safe here.”

He was certain of it. If the Demon wanted them dead, he would have killed them when he had the other demons kidnap them. He’d had another chance when they tried to leave and the hellhound had killed Chris. They had been brought here for a reason, and that wasn’t just to die. The Demon’s plan had been in action for over two decades. Whatever it wanted, it was something big, and he wasn’t going to waste the lives of his ‘special’ ones unless forced to.

Perhaps Chris had a power he didn’t need as much as Sam, Ava and Nate’s; perhaps he was only brought there to die as a warning when they tried to leave, as the Demon had to have known they would try.

For a moment, he thought of Chris, his body left in the woods to be picked over by animals, perhaps the hellhound itself. He couldn’t go for him though. As cruel as it was, Chris had to stay out there alone.

Nate took the candle from him and then made his way slowly out of the building and to the outhouse. He left the door partially open, and they could see the candlelight spilling out. He was only in there for a moment before he came rushing back out, the candle gripped in his hand and his footsteps fast as he jogged back to the building and slipped past them and inside.

“What happened?” Ava asked.

“Nothing,” Nate said. “I’m just not willing to stay out there any longer than I have to.” He shoved the candle into Ava’s hand.

She looked nervous and Sam patted her arm. “It’s okay.”

Ava nodded and then stepped out. She hesitated a moment and then said, “Come with me, Sam. Bring the knife.”

Sam nodded and Nate grunted. “The knife. Why the hell didn’t I think of that?”

“You’re a little stupid,” Ava said with a small smile.

Sam went into the store and grabbed the knife then went outside and stood between the building and the toilet, looking back at Ava expectantly. She took a few tentative steps then broke into a run, skirting Sam and going into the toilet. Sam positioned himself outside, hearing her huff of annoyance when she saw what lay inside, and then hummed loudly as he heard the rustle of clothing, wanting to give her what privacy he could. 

When she came out and ran back to the store, Sam followed her in and stood in the middle of the room as she went straight to the water bottled and rinsed her hands. “What I wouldn’t give for some Kleenex and hand sanitizer right now,” she muttered.

“Yeah, whoever brought us here wasn’t thinking of comfort,” Nate said.

“Demon,” Sam supplied.

Nate raised an eyebrow. “Demon. Sure. That’s got to be one of the words you’re getting wrong, right?”

Sam shook his head and Nate huffed out a breath. “And that’s right, too? You’re not getting nodding mixed up, too?”

Sam remembered one of the tests the doctor had done when he was in the hospital and he touched the front of his shirt and said, “This is blue.”

“Blue?” Ava asked.

Sam nodded. “Yes.”

“There goes that idea then,” Nate sighed. “Oh well. I guess this day is pretty crazy already; I’m trapped in frontier town with a guy that can’t speak properly and a girl that has psychic visions and I was brought here by a cult of black-eyed people. Why not add demons to that?”

Ava hid a yawn behind her hand and said, “What are we going to do, Sam? We’re going to need to sleep.”

Sam knew she was right, but they would have to keep watch. He took blankets from the crate and spread them on the floor, side by side, and settled some more on top. “Between,” he said. “Warmer. I’ll watch.”

“You’re going to watch us?” Ava asked.

Sam tapped his wrist where his watch would have been had he not forgotten to put it on after showering that morning and then held up three fingers. “You sleep. I’ll watch. Three hours then you watch.” He pointed to his eyes, at Nate and then to himself again. “Two hours. Wake me again.”

Nate rolled up his sleeve and took off a watch. He handed it to Sam and said. “Here, you’re going to need this.”

Sam thanked him and gestured to him. “Sleep. I’ll wake you when it’s your turn. Wake me after two."

“What about Ava?” he asked.

“Last watch,” Sam said.

It was going to be the early hours of the morning before he started his second watch, and that was the hardest time of the night to stay awake. He didn’t want either of them to take that watch, and he didn’t think it was a good idea to ask one of them to take the first. They were tired and scared, and sitting up alone in the night was going to be tough until they saw Sam had survived his shift.

Nate made to get under both blankets and Sam shook his head. “One under. One over. Warmer.”

“Lay on top?” Ava asked.

“Yes,” Sam said. “Warmer. And make yourself small.” He hugged his arms around himself to reinforce the message.

They exchanged a quizzical look but some of his words had reached them as they both laid down on one of their blankets and pulled the other over them.  Sam took the last two from the crate and wrapped them around himself then sat down on the lid.

“Get closer, Ava,” Nate said. “You’re wasting body heat.”

“I’m engaged,” Ava said, a hint of a smile in her voice.

“We’re both fully dressed and I’ll try not to get handsy with you in my sleep,” Nate said. “And if your fiancé comes looking for me when we get out of here, I’ll explain that it was necessary survival snuggling.”

Ava nudged closer to him and sighed. Sam was pleased that they were able to joke, as it would be a good defense from the fear.

He had no idea how long they were going to be here and he thought whatever reserves they could use to fight the fear would help.

He hoped his family would find him, but the fact the demons had wanted his pin code made him think they were clearing his accounts to set the scene of him taking off on his own. If they believed he’d run away instead of having faith in him, they weren’t going to be looking. He would be here until he worked out a way to get them out or until the demon came and finally told them what he wanted.

Either way, Sam wasn’t confident they would be getting out of here anytime soon. 

xXx

Sam had thought he would struggle to sleep when Nate took over the watch, but as soon as he lay down in his blanket cocoon, he found himself drifting off. He fell into a deep sleep that morphed into a dream that confused and scared him. He was in the woods with a shovel in his hand, looking for Chris’ body to bury. Though he knew he shouldn’t be there, the hellhound could come at any moment, he couldn’t force himself to leave until he was buried. It was more than a mark of respect; some deep fear told him that the only way to keep himself safe was to bury Chris before he came back to attack them as a vengeful spirit as they’d lived and he’d died.

He wandered among the trees, his heart racing and his injured hand already throbbing in anticipation of the strain it was going to take digging the grave, and listened carefully for the sound of paws on the ground, any sign of the hellhound coming for him. There was nothing to alert him to the fact he might not be alone as he moved on deeper into the forest.

The light around him seemed to have no source, and the clouds thick overhead were dark, but he could see where he was going clearly. As he walked, he saw a dark shape ahead of him on the forest floor and he knew it was Chris. He hurried his pace towards it, relieved to have found it so he could finish his task and get out of the dangerous forest. But when he reached it, the body, which had bloated and darkened with death, shimmered as if in a heat haze and became a dog with glowing red eyes and huge teeth that showed in its parted jaws.

Sam staggered back a step and then froze as the dog raised its head and sniffed the air. He knew if he moved, he would be seen and the hellhound would attack, so he kept himself perfectly still, his breaths coming so shallow that they barely moved his chest. The hound looked directly at him and Sam felt sweat trickle down his back.

“It’s okay, Sam,” a voice said. “It won’t attack until I tell it to.”

Sam didn’t dare turn to see the speaker, despite the reassuring words, and he roved his eyes around for a sign of the newcomer.

A man stepped into his peripheral vision and came to a stop in front of him. He had dark hair and a lined face, but that was the only thing about him that stood out. Sam could have passed him in the street and not noticed him. His long overcoat swept down to his ankles and his hands were folded in front of him. Sam knew who he was though.

“It’s you,” he said. “You’re the Demon.”

The man’s eyes became yellow and a wide smile lifted his lips. “It’s me. I am the one you’ve been looking for. You are the one I have been watching your whole life.”

“You bastard,” Sam growled. “You killed my mom.”

“I did. She got in the way. It was her fault. She knew what she was doing.” 

Sam frowned. “How did she know?”

The demon laughed. “That’s a piece of family history I don’t think I’ll share. It’s enough for me to say that it was _her_ fault. She did this to you."

“She couldn’t have known. She would never have let you do that to me.”

“Do what?” he enquired.

“Blood,” Sam spat. “You put demon blood in me, _your_ blood. You infected me.”

“I gave you a gift.”

Sam raised the shovel, planning to slam it into the demon’s head, to crush his skull and leave him broken and bleeding.

The demon laughed and snapped his fingers. The weight of the shovel disappeared and Sam’s hands dropped to his sides.

“This is a dream, Sam, and I command it. Besides, you have no weapon that can hurt me. And aren’t you glad it’s a dream? You can talk, Sam; doesn’t it feel wonderful?”

Sam hadn’t realized before, but now he did he felt another pang of anger. The words he desperately needed were there for him here but almost gone in the real world where they could be the most use. If he could talk to Nate and Ava, he could do more, reassure them. He could make them understand.

“My family are going to kill you,” he stated.

The demon chuckled. “I don’t doubt they’ll try, but they won’t succeed. I serve a higher power than they do, and the one I serve has more power than you can imagine. You and the other children in this town, the other children I have in towns spread across the country right now, you’re all following the path your lives are destined to follow. You are all part of something much greater, Sam. Besides, you’re not going to be found until I want you to be. They have something I need, but not yet. It’s not time for the gun.”

Sam closed his eyes and tried to break from the dream. If he could just wake up, he could get away from this monster and back to the people that needed him. He clenched his injured hand into a fist, but the pain was muffled and didn’t reach him enough to jar him from the dream.

“You might as well give up now,” the demon said. “You’re here until I am done with you. They all are.”

“How many of us do you have?” Sam asked. “What are you doing to us?”

“I have five groups spread across the country. Some have been together longer than you and your friends here, some have only just arrived. You will be together eventually, but not yet. There’s much to happen before that moment. And there are still more to come. You won’t be just a trio for long.”

“Why are we here?” Sam asked. “What do you want from us?”

The demon grinned, his perfectly even teeth peeking underneath his lips. “I don’t want to spoil the surprise. You’re a smart boy. You’ll work it out eventually, and when you do, you will be mine.”

“I will _never_ be yours,” Sam growled.

“You really will, Sam. Now, I think it’s time for you to return. There is something wonderful for you to see.”

He reached out a hand and Sam backed away with a snarl. “Don’t touch me!”

“No? Perhaps not. I don’t _need_ to touch you, after all. I just need to do this…”

He snapped his fingers and Sam heard the sound like an explosion in his head. His eyes flew open and he found himself in the dim light of the store they’d sheltered in. He sat bolt upright and the blanket fell away from him. The candle had burned down to a stub but there was light coming through the glassless window. Sam wondered why no one had woken him, and he looked around. Nate was sleeping, curled into a ball under his blanket, and Ava was sitting leaned against the wall, a blanket over her lap.

“Ava,” he whispered, shoving the blanket off of his legs and standing up. “You okay?”

She didn’t move or speak, and Sam felt the first twinge of unease. He walked towards her, noting her unnatural stillness. Heart starting to race, he knelt down at her side. It was only when he felt the dampness that sank into the knees of his jeans that he realized what had happened.

“No!” he shouted. “Ava!”

“What’s going on?” Nate asked, the sounds of him scrambling to his feet and crossing the room coming from behind Sam, but Sam didn’t turn.

He pressed his fingers to Ava’s neck, feeling the chill of her skin and absence of a pulse. She was dead and had been for a while. He looked down and saw the deep cut in her left arm from wrist to elbow. The bloody knife she had used was resting beside her right hand where it had fallen from her fingers. It was her blood he was kneeling in.

“She’s dead,” he whispered.

Nate staggered to a stop at his side and retched. Sam picked up the blade and moved it away from her as if it was possible to protect her now. It was far too late to help her at all. It hadn’t been long enough for her to stiffen, but it was long enough for her skin to lose any warmth.

“What did you do?” Nate shouted.

Sam got to his feet and stepped back. Nate was standing with his fists raised. Sam held up his hands, palm out, and said, “I didn’t do this. She did it.”

Nate’s eyes were wide and his jaw tensed. He stared at Sam for a moment and then dived right to pick up the knife Sam had moved. He raised it and pointed it threateningly at Sam. “Don’t come near me!” he growled.

Sam shook his head. “Not me. Ava. I was sleeping.”

Nate shook his head jerkily. “Why would she do this?”

“I don’t know.”

He didn’t understand. Ava had seemed okay when she’d fallen asleep. She’d been joking with Nate even. What could have happened to her to make her take her own life like this?

Nate looked down at Ava and then back at Sam. “She was okay.”

“I thought so. But she wasn’t. She did this to herself.” 

Nate frowned as he untangled what Sam had said then lowered the knife slightly and said, “She really killed herself?

Sam nodded emphatically. “I was sleeping.”

Nate shook his head. “But why?”

Sam shrugged. “She was scared.”

Nate bit his lip, seeming to be deep in thought, perhaps trying to make sense of whatever words Sam had spoken. “Do you think…” He took a breath. “Do you think it was the yellow-eyed man? Could he have made her do it?”

Sam’s mouth dropped open. “You saw him?” To emphasize the question, he pointed from Nate to his own eyes.

“Yeah. I was sleeping. I saw him in my dream. We were in the woods. He told me…” He swallowed hard. “He said we were going to die. Who was he, Sam? Why does he want to kill us?”

Sam closed his eyes for a moment, unable to find the words to explain even if they would have come out right. He opened his eyes and looked at Nate again and said one word.

“Demon.”


	3. Chapter 3

Sam scratched another mark into the wall, adding it to the twenty that were already there. They marked the days he had spent in this place. The first had been made the morning he’d woken to find Ava dead, and each morning after, each time he woke and felt the momentary confusion that he wasn’t in his own bed and then the realization of where he was and why washed over him, he had made another.  

Nate rolled over under his blanket and pushed himself up on one elbow. “I don’t know why you bother,” he said, not for the first time. “It’s just depressing to count the days in this place.”

Sam shrugged, not bothering to give a verbal answer.

“No,” Nate said, his tone scolding. “Use your words.”

Sam shot him a sharp glance, hating to be made to feel like a child, but Nate sat up and crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes fixed on Sam expectantly.

Sam sighed. “I like to know how long it’s been. It helps me feel like I have some kind of control.”

He raised an eyebrow and Nate murmured to himself for a moment and then said, “Yeah, you like it, I figured that out, but you and I both know we have no control here.”

Sam was surprised he’d been able to understand so much. “That was a lot.”

“That’s because you’re making more sense every day,” Nate said. “The more you talk, the better it’s getting. And you’re calmer now. It’s when you get worked up that your brain can’t keep up.”

Sam set the knife down and sat on the edge of one of the crates they’d collected from the other buildings in town. “It’s hard to tell what makes sense,” he said. “It all sounds right to me.”

“Yeah, obviously. Keep trying and it will make sense to everyone before long.”

“There’s only you to listen,” Sam pointed out.

“For now. We don’t know how long it will be until the others start arriving. The demon told us both there would be more.”

Sam nodded. “Yeah.”   

In the first dream and in the ones that followed, the Yellow-Eyed demon had told them there were more, that his children were slowly coming together in the other towns, but they’d seen no more than each other in the place Nate had dubbed ‘Bell Town’ because of the cast bell with its carved oak tree they’d found at the other end of town.

Nate got to his feet and stretched. “I’m going to clean up. Get a fire going, you think?”

“Sure,” Sam said. “Breakfast?”

Nate considered a moment. “Yeah. It’s always easier to spend the rest of the day hungry when you’ve started with a four-course meal.”

Sam snorted. They had more than enough food to last them weeks, but they were rationing it in anticipation of the others that were coming. There had been meal packs in each of the crates they’d found along with matches, knives, candles, and blankets, that would last them, but with no end to the time they would be there in sight, they were careful. Nate said he’d had to have a good long think between letting the hellhound get him or starving to death. To his mind, at least one of them was quick. Sam wasn’t sure whether he was joking or not.

Nate picked up his knife and carried it out of the back of the schoolroom they’d taken over and Sam went out the front to gather wood and start a fire, his own knife in his good hand.

He looked at the forest, wishing he could go in there to gather the wood they needed instead of tearing more of the buildings down. The wood they used was so old and dry that it burned quickly and they had to get more and more, tearing it from the barn piece by piece. They’d both sworn to stay out of the trees though, even those at the edge of the forest, as they didn’t know the hellhound’s territory limitations.  

He went to the barn and yanked off a couple planks and broke them over his knee, jarring his injured hand. It was better than it was in the beginning, healing now, but it was still tender when he pushed it past comfort levels. He had no choice though. Bell Town wasn’t the kind of place you could nurse an injury.

When the fire was built, he lit the kindling and stepped back. He would get it burning well and then go clean himself up while Nate watched the fire and prepared their breakfast.  

Despite their attempts to keep themselves clean, the days spent here were showing on their hair and skin. They both had scruffy beards growing and their clothes were filthy. They’d long moved past the point at which the smell was getting to them, as they had no soap. 

Sam heard movement behind him and turned, expecting to see Nate, but there was a woman there with onyx blank eyes and a smug smile.

“Nate!” Sam bellowed, making to sprint away but the woman grabbed his arm and pinned him. “Run!”

He heard Nate shout back but before he could make a reply, something solid was colliding with the back of his head and he was falling forward onto the dirt and his eyes were sliding shut as consciousness deserted him.

xXx

Sam felt a hand on his shoulder, shaking him, and he groaned.

“Wake up, Sam!” Nate said. “You can’t leave me to deal with this alone.”

His eyes cracked open and he saw three pairs of shoes in his line of vision. He rolled over and sat up then scrambled to his feet as he took in the three new faces, one male and two females. He knew what had happened at once, the next group had arrived, but that didn’t make it any easier to stay calm.

His muscles tensed and his mind caught between fight and flight, he asked, “Who are you?” The people facing him looked blank, and he took a breath and asked the question again.

Nate stepped into his vision, making their group one of five, and said, “Take it easy, Sam. You’re making no sense. This is Lucas, Bethan, and Hallie. I’m guessing the demon decided it was time for some new faces around here.”

Sam nodded and examined them closely. It was clear that none of them came from one of the other towns the Yellow-Eyed demon had mentioned, as these people were clean and the man shaved.

“Where did you come from?” he asked.

“Still not calm enough,” Nate said. “Try again.”

Sam shook his head and pointed at Nate. “You.”

Nate shrugged. “Okay. Hallie here came from Oklahoma, snatched out of her apartment. Lucas was at work on a construction site when they grabbed him and Bethan was in a bar. Bethan is a mind reader, but that doesn’t seem to work on us, so that’s a relief. Lucas has something to do with dreams—”

“I can see other people’s,” he supplied.

“And Hallie is telekinetic, too.”

“Who are you people? What is this place?” Hallie asked.

Sam shot Nate a quick look. “You didn’t tell them anything?”

“Now you’re getting it.” Nate shrugged. “I figured it was more important to find out what we were dealing with before reassuring them. They were pretty chatty.”

“You were holding a knife,” Lucas muttered.

“Sorry about that,” Nate said. “If you’d been here as long as us, you’d be wanting to hold a knife, too. Anyway. This place is called Bell Town—that’s what we call it anyway—and we’ve been here almost three weeks. We were grabbed like you by some crazy strong people with black eyes.”

Bethan nodded. “They bundled us into a van and I woke up here. What the hell’s going on?”

“You want to take this?” Nate asked, looking at Sam.

“If they can make sense of it.”

Nate shrugged. “Try. Maybe start by explaining what’s the deal with you and talking.”

Sam nodded. “Okay. I was in a fire and the smoke inhalation made me very ill. There was damage to my brain. My words come out wrong. I think I’m saying the right thing but I’m not. It’s getting better now.”

“Yeah, that was pretty good,” Nate said to Sam then addressed the newcomers. “You might have to put what he’s saying together like a jigsaw puzzle. It’s easier when you get used to it. And he really is doing better. He just needs to stay calm.”

Hallie laughed shortly. “Calm? Here?”

“It’s easier when you get used to that, too,” Nate said.

“Get used to _what_?” Lucas asked. “I don’t understand what we’re doing here.”

“Nor do we really,” Nate said. “Okay. Here’s the crazy part. We were brought here by demons as part of a plan created by their boss, the Yellow-Eyed Demon. He wants us all for something. We’re not the only ones. There are other towns of people like us, people with powers, and apparently, we’re all going to be coming together before the end.”

“But why?” Lucas asked.

“Don’t know,” Sam said. “He wants something from us.”

“Okay, you’ve been here weeks in crazy-town, and you’ve not just left yet? That forest has to lead somewhere, right? Why haven’t you run?”

Sam shook his head roughly. “Hellhound.”

Nate sighed. “Sure. That word comes out wrong so I have to share the best part. Awesome, Sam. There’s a monster in the forest that killed the other guy that came in with us. He was called Chris. The first thing we tried to do was get out, and it attacked, tore Chris apart. It’s like a dog or something but you can’t see it; it’s invisible. The claws are real though. It’s called a hellhound according to Sam.”

Hallie turned away. “Demons! Hellhounds! You people are nuts. I’m getting out of here.”

Sam grabbed her arm and pulled her back. “You can’t.”

She tried to yank herself free, but Sam’s hold was too tight. “Let me go!”

“You will die if you try,” Nate said. “We’ve been safe as we stayed in town, but if you go into those trees, it’s open season for the hellhound.”

“Which sounds scary and all but is also bullshit,” Lucas said, grabbing Sam’s wrist and pulling him away from Hallie. He was stronger than Sam, and Hallie was able to pull herself free. 

“No!” Sam said, trying to grab at her again.

Lucas shoved him back and said, “You don’t get to say no to us. We’re not staying just because you say there’s a monster out there. There’s no such thing as monsters. Or demons. You’re nuts, and we’re not sticking around until you lose it all the way and murder us.” He took Bethan’s arm and said, “Come with us.”

Bethan looked between Sam and Lucas and said, “No, I think I’ll stay.”

“Are you crazy?” Hallie asked.

“I can read minds, so maybe I am, but I don’t think I’m crazy staying here with the people that seem to know what they’re talking about.”

Lucas and Hallie started jogging towards the trees and Sam shouted, “Nate, stop them! Hold them.”

Without taking a step forward, Nate raised a hand and reached for them as he had when demonstrating his power to Sam and Ava, but they kept running, unhindered.

“It won’t work!” he said desperately.

Sam started running after them, almost reaching the edge of the trees, when arms caught him around the chest and held him back. He struggled, but Nate grabbed his injured hand and squeezed it, making pain rip up his arm, weakening him.

“You can’t go in there,” Nate said in his ear. “You will die.”

“So will they,” Sam panted.

“Not a word,” Nate said, “but I get what you’re trying to say. We warned them. They know the risk. If we go in with them, we’re all going to die. I don’t know what the deal is with you, Sam, but I have a feeling we’re safer if you’re with us. You came in here knowing something, so I figure you’re the best chance we have of staying alive.”

Sam groaned. He knew Nate was right, if they went in, they would die, but he couldn’t just stand there and watch them running to their deaths. Desperate and with no other option, he slammed his heel down on Nate’s foot and, when Nate released him, spun and brought his hands down on the back of his neck, his injured hand screaming with pain.

Nate dropped like a stone and Sam ran into the trees, calling for Hallie and Lucas, but they didn’t even slow down. He saw them ahead of him, stumbling over the branches on the ground.

Sam’s heart was racing, and he cried out in fear as a howl ripped through the air. “It’s here! Come back!” he shouted, no idea what words had left him.

Hallie stopped and seemed to teeter in indecision before spinning and running back towards Sam. He gestured her on as he ran towards her, and said, “Get back to town!” shoving at her back when she reached him.

He kept going forward, shouting to Lucas, but he was too slow and the hound was too close. He saw Lucas fly back to the ground with a cry of shock and then the wounds appear on his legs, a freshet of blood spurting from them. He howled in pain and Sam moaned. He was too late, there was no way for Lucas to survive injuries like that here, but he couldn’t make himself stop. He was almost with him when a hand grabbed his arm and held him back.

Shocked that Nate had come in after him and feeling guilty for the risk at which he was putting him, Sam struggled free and said, “Go back!”

“No,” a laughing voice said. “You go back.”

Sam froze as he recognized the voice of the Yellow-Eyed Demon and he sucked in a breath as the demon came into view and whistled. There was a harsh growl and then Sam felt something moving around his legs, the sound of something sniffing him and a nose nudging him.

“This one,” the demon said. “If you see him in here again, you can kill him.”

There was a low growl in response and then the sound of paws on the ground moving away from him. Lucas’ pained cries cut off as deep wounds appeared in his neck and blood spurted.

The demon moved closer to Sam and stared at him with his sickening yellow eyes. “This is your last chance, Sam,” he said. “I like you, I want you to be there for the end, but if you come here again, my pet will tear you apart.”

“They’re going to kill you,” Sam snarled.

The demon laughed. “Daddy and Dean, you mean? Let me tell you a little secret, Sammy, they’re not even looking for you right now. They’re looking for me, and they don’t have a chance of finding me. When it’s time, when I want them, I will go see them. Until then… well, you’re all alone.”

The demon winked and then vanished, and Sam sucked in a shaky breath. His mind was reeling with what he had seen and heard, the threat the demon had made, and it was hard to think for a moment, and then he heard a low growl and he knew he was out of time. He had to get out, but he wasn’t going alone. He’d been forced to leave Chris’ body behind to be picked over, and he wasn’t doing that to Lucas, too.

“Screw you,” he muttered, walking toward the body and hefting it up.

He turned away from the sound of growling and carried his burden back to town to be buried.

xXx

Sam was just washing his hands at the bucket outside the outhouse when he heard a terrible crash and his name being shouted by Nate.

His heart hammering, he ran towards the sound, calling to Nate and the others, wondering what new trouble had befallen them. In the three days since Lucas had been mauled by the hellhound, things had been quiet. Bethan and Hallie were in shock after Lucas’ death and their arrival in this place and they’d mostly been following Nate and Sam around dutifully when they moved about the town with their daily routines, scared to be alone.

Did this shout portend more people or more pain for the people he was responsible for?

He skidded around the corner of the store and saw the new nightmare. The barn they’d been taking planks from to burn had collapsed, and Sam could see a pool of blood forming at the edge and a still hand.

“Nate?” he called. “Are you okay?”

“I’m pinned,” Nate called back. “Check the girls. They’re not talking.”

“Hallie? Bethan? Can you hear me?” he called, running towards the pile of planks and beams.

There was no reply and Sam touched the hand that peeked out of the pile and pinched it. “Hallie? Bethan?” He couldn’t remember which one of them wore the green stoned ring he could see on the index finger.

There was no movement and Sam said. “Okay. I’m getting you out. Are you hurt, Nate?”

“Not badly. Something hit my head when it fell, and I feel like I’m being crushed, but I can move my hands and feet. There’s something on my back. I think it’s a beam. I can’t lift it off. It’s too heavy for my power.” His babbling cut off and he groaned. “We took too much wood, Sam. There was nothing left to hold the rotten parts.”

“I’m getting you out,” Sam said. “I need you to keep talking to I can find the right beam.”

“Get the girls out first,” Nate said.

“I can’t. I need you to pull them while I lift.”

“What? You’re not making sense, Sam.”

Sam began to grab at the loose planks and throw them behind him, exposing blonde hair with a heavy staining of blood.

“Bethan!” he said.

“Can you see her?” Nate asked. “Is she okay?”

“I don’t know.”

He threw more planks behind him until Bethan’s head and torso were revealed. She was perfectly still, not even breaths moving her, and Sam knew he was too late. Despite that, he leaned carefully over the beam that remained and pressed his fingers to her throat. There was no thrum of life and he groaned but didn’t answer Nate’s question of what was going on.

He moved on and began to expose Nate’s place under the wood. There was a heavy-looking beam lying across him but it didn’t seem to be constricting him too much. Sam could see his back expanding with his breaths.

“I’ve got you,” he said. “I’m going to lift. You have to crawl out.”

“You want me to crawl?” Nate asked.

“Yes.”

Nate sighed. “Okay, man, but don’t drop that thing on me.”

Sam grabbed the end of the beam and, his hand protesting the weight, hauled it up. “Now!”

Nate wriggled out from beneath and fell facedown onto the dirt as his feet cleared the pile. For a moment, he panted and then pushed himself up and swayed. His eyes fell on Bethan and he asked, “Is she… Is she dead?”

“Yes,” Sam said. “Help me find Hallie.”

Nate wiped a hand over his face, smearing the tears that were falling, and said, “She was on my right.”

They began to remove planks from the spot Nate indicated she should be, and Sam saw, with the lifting of a particularly large one, a swatch of brown hair. “I’ve got her! Help me!”

Nate moved to him and began to haul away the wood until they could see her whole body. And it was a body. She was as perfectly still as Bethan had been.

“Hallie, we’ve got you,” Nate said. “Hang on. We’ll get you out.”

Sam didn’t correct him, knowing that he would see the truth soon enough, and indicated the beam over her legs and said, “I’m going to lift it.” 

“No, your hand is still screwed up,” Nate said. “I’ll do it. You pull her out. But be careful. I think she’s really hurt.”

Sam nodded and positioned himself at Hallie’s head. Nate gripped the beam and pulled it up, the muscles standing out on his arms, as Sam grabbed Hallie’s shoulders and eased her out. She was limp and her head rolled at an angle that was unnatural even for a corpse. He laid her down gently and Nate dropped the beam and rushed over. “How is she?”

Sam checked for a pulse, knowing there would be none, and shook his head. “She broke her neck.”

Nate back away, his hand held in front of him. “Both of them? They’re both dead?”

Sam nodded. “I’m sorry.”

Nate began to sob, his shoulders shaking, and Sam straightened up. He didn’t think Nate would want to be touched, so he walked away into the schoolhouse and picked up the pickaxe and shovel and carried them outside.

Nate was kneeling beside Bethan, touching her hand with a look of intense misery on his face. Sam stood behind him for an immeasurable time, letting him grieve, and then said, “We need to bury them.”

Nate stood up and wiped at his face, smearing the tears and dirt. “Why is this happening, Sam?”

“Too much wood, like you said,” Sam said. “It was weak.”

Nate shook his head. “It was my fault. I asked them to help me get the wood. It was my idea to take it from there. We should have seen it was weaker. We should have gone somewhere else.”

“Not your fault. It’s the demon. He did this to us.”

Nate nodded. “The demon that wants us… Sam, do you really think your family is coming, because it’s been a while. I don’t think I can handle it much longer before I take my chances against the hellhound.”

Sam handed him the pickaxe and said, “You can do this. The hellhound will kill you. They will come.”

Though he couldn’t be sure anymore. The Demon had said his father and Dean weren’t looking, they were tracking him instead. Maybe the demons had set a good enough trail by emptying Sam’s account for them to really believe Sam had taken off on his own. And if they weren’t looking, Sam and Nate were on their own.

Nate shrugged. “I don’t know anymore, man. It’s been a long time. And we keep dying. What if we’re just here for entertainment while he watches us struggle and die. Maybe…” He cut off and looked around. “Do you hear that?”

Sam nodded curtly. Someone or some _thing_ was coming. He could hear panting breaths and strange human growls.

“Get in the school,” he said. “Grab a knife.”

Nate took two steps away from him but the growls rose to a roar of rage as a man ran around the corner of the store towards them, a bloodied knife in his hands and a twisted look of hatred on his filthy face. His beard was longer than Sam and Nate’s and his hair was matted.

“Run, Nate!” Sam commanded, lifting the shovel in his hand and bracing his stance as Nate ran.

The man ignored Nate and ran at Sam, the knife held out in front of him. Sam acted a split second before the tip of the blade would be in range of him. He used the extra length the spade had over the knife and slammed it into the man’s head.

It hit with a dull thwack sound and the man dropped face down on the ground, the knife falling from his nerveless fingers.

Sam threw aside the spade and straddled the man’s back, twisting his arms up behind him and said, “Blanket, Nate. We need to make ropes.”

“Who the hell is that?” Nate asked, running back to him. “What is it?”

“It’s one of us,” Sam said. “This must be the new wave. He came from another town though.” He looked up. “I think the ones that survived their own towns are going to be coming here now. Get the blankets. We need to tie him up before he wakes. And get all the knives. I don’t want weapons lying around.”

Nate mouthed the words, a frown on his face, and then said, “You think there will be more? And they’ll be like this one?”

Sam nodded.

Nate blew out a breath. “Oh, man. Shit just got real, didn’t it?”

Sam nodded again. He had a feeling that what they’d seen and done, the lives they’d been living, were going to seem like a peaceful vacation compared to what was coming now. The demon wanted Sam he said, but he’d sent this man here. Had he changed his mind or was this his first test? Did he want to see what Sam was capable of? Did he think Sam would kill to defend himself and Nate?

Sam didn’t know if that was what the demon wanted and, more worrying to him, he didn’t know the answer.

Was this new confrontation going to leave him a murderer?


	4. Chapter 4

Sam tied the last knot, tested it was secure, and then straightened up. The man was still unconscious, sitting slumped against the pole where they’d propped him up, but Sam was sure he was going to be awake soon.

Sam didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know if his theory that this was the last survivor of one of the other towns was true, but he did know this man would have killed him if Sam hadn’t knocked him out first, and that meant they had a problem. He couldn’t leave him tied up forever, but they couldn’t have him running free. And Sam didn’t want to kill him. He had no idea what this man had been through, what had driven him to the murderous state he’d been in when he’d arrived. He could have been through hell. It might not be his fault.

And Sam didn’t want to be a murderer.

Nate had let Sam take the lead gratefully, apparently having no desire to take control of the situation. He’d done as Sam asked, bringing him blankets and cutting them into strips then knotting them into ropes to tie the man up. He’d helped Sam drag the man inside to the saloon where there was a post supporting the roof that they could secure him to. After that, he’d stepped back and watched.  

Sam stepped back and said, “Okay. He’s secure.”

“For how long?” Nate asked. “He was pretty hardcore coming after us. What if he gets free?”

Sam looked him in the eye. “What would you do?”

Nate bit his lip. “Honestly, man, I don’t know. I guess we can hope another building falls down, this time on him.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking. He was going to _kill_ you, Sam. He was out of control.”

Sam gestured to the knife in Nate’s hand and said, “Then you stop him.”

Nate looked at the knife as if he had never seen it before and shook his head. “I can’t.”

“Me either.”

Nate set the knife down on one of the crates and said, “What are we going to do about Bethan and Hallie? We can’t leave them out there like that. It’s not right.”

“We’ll bury them. I can do it. You keep watch here.”

Nate frowned as he puzzled over Sam’s words then said, “Watch? You want me to watch him alone?”  

Sam nodded.

“No way, man. You can do the watching. I’ll go bury the girls. I’m the better choice anyway. You’ve got the busted hand still, and I bet it’s probably pretty much killing you already after lifting the beam off of me.”

Sam flexed his hand and nodded. It was hurting, and if he spent the next few hours digging a grave, it was going to be hurting a whole lot more.

Nate hesitated then picked up the knife and handed it to Sam. He patted his shoulder and said, “Be careful. Don’t trust him,” before picking up the pickaxe and going outside.

Sam had never needed the advice less. He was aware of just how close to death he had come at the hands of this man and just how dangerous he was. He wasn’t going to let his guard down even a little while dealing with him.

He sat down on the edge of the crate, turning the knife over in his hands as he waited for the man to wake. As he did, he thought of Bethan and Hallie. They weren’t the first losses since they’d arrived, Chris had been first then Ava—and hers had hurt the most as Sam had missed the signs—and Lucas. They had been hard to deal with, but Bethan and Hallie’s ends were purely accidental. It could have been any of them under that roof, killed because they’d just wanted to get wood for a fire. Nate was lucky to have survived. If the beam had hit in a different spot, if he’d been unlucky, Sam would have been left alone in this place. Well, alone except for the man now tied up.

It was so senseless. Was this part of the demon’s plan, too? Had he somehow engineered the collapse? Demons had telekinesis, and Sam had already seen the demon lurking here. Had he watched, bided his time, and then brought the building crashing down? Had he perhaps wanted to thin the ranks a little more or had he been doing it purely for the warning it imposed? There were more than hellhounds and crazy men with knives to watch for. Could any one of them be killed at any moment?

He’d taken away Sam’s protection from the hellhound. Sam was at as much risk now as any of them. The demon had wanted him there for the end, but he wasn’t going to give Sam any more free passes. Sam was in equal danger now.

The man stirred and Sam stood quickly and tightened his grip on the knife, watching carefully as the man’s eyes opened and blinked up at Sam. He didn’t test his bindings at all. He just looked down at where they encircled his chest and hands and then up at Sam again.

“You’re next,” he said conversationally.

“Who are you?” Sam asked.

The man frowned. “Who what?”

“You.”

The man grinned, showing crooked teeth. “I used to be called Harrison. Now I am the chosen.”

“Chosen by who?”

He chuckled. “By the man with the yellow eyes. Who are _you_? Where is the other one? Did you kill him?”

“Nate is burying our friends.”

The man, Harrison, laughed. “I didn’t bury my kills. They’re piled and ready for the dogs.”

“How many did you kill?” He saw by Harrison’s reaction that the question had made no sense and he tried to calm himself in hope that it would help his words come our more clearly. “How many?”

“Oh… You want to know how many I got? Twelve. I took them as they came to town. One by one they died until I was the last one left. Then I went to sleep and woke up here. I have been delivered to you to move along the path of destiny.”

“Why did you kill them?”

Harrison chortled. “Because I was told to. The yellow-eyed man told me what I had to do. There will be a war and he needs a general. That’s what I can be for him. I will be the last alive and the one to lead.”

Sam considered that for a moment. He and Nate had both been visited by the demon, and though they hadn’t talked about it, he believed Hallie and Bethan had been too by the way they flinched when Nate questioned them.

The Demon had never told them to kill each other though. He’d said he didn’t want to spoil the surprise, but had he been leading them to this point? He or one of his underlings had brought Harrison here. Was he supposed to be their first kill, the one that set them on their own path to destiny? Perhaps he had seen something in this man that made him think he was ready for the truth, that he was primed to kill already, while he’d led Sam and Nate to it more carefully.

Sam didn’t want to be a murderer, the idea horrified him, but it was even more important now that he not give in and hurt anyone as that would be serving the Demon’s plans. It wasn’t just about him clinging to the man he wanted to be; it was about thwarting the Demon’s plans.  

“I’m going to kill you, you know,” Harrison said conversationally. “Tying me up won’t help you. I am not one man alone in this.”

“You killed all the others,” Sam pointed out, speaking carefully.

“I did, and when I did that, I opened my mind to the power. I am unstoppable now.”

Sam’s eyes roved the room nervously, searching for a sign of threat. He didn’t know what this man’s power was, but if he was telekinetic like Nate and Hallie, he might be able to aim a weapon while still tied up.

“You won’t see it coming,” Harrison said. “I am sneaky like that.”

Sam was on the verge of answering when he heard his name being shouted outside, and it sounded strained.  

He ran outside and saw Nate standing by the fallen barn, the pickaxe held in front of him and his eyes fixed on something in the distance. Sam followed his gaze and saw three people walking slowly up the road with their hands raised. One of them was African American and wearing military fatigues. Another was a young woman with blonde hair, standing a little apart from the others, and the third was Andy, the man Sam had met in Oklahoma. His eyes widened when he saw Sam and he started running.

“Sam!” he shouted. “Thank god you’re here. Are your dad and brother here, too?”

Sam moved towards him, still gripping the knife warily, but his muscles looser than they had been when he’d heard Nate’s shout.

Andy came to a skidding stop a few feet from Sam and he eyed the knife nervously. “Sam?”

“They’re not here,” Sam said.

Andy’s eyes widened. “Whoa! You’re talking!”

Sam smiled in spite of himself. “Only a little. It doesn’t all come out right all the time. It’s better though.”

Andy frowned and Sam wondered how much of what he’d said had made sense. He dismissed the question and looked at the man in fatigues and the woman who had stopped a dozen feet away and were looking wary. Nate came to Sam’s side, still holding the pickaxe and said, “You know them, Sam?”

“Just Andy,” Sam said. “He’s got mind compulsion. It didn’t work on me, so it probably won’t on you either.”

“You can do something, too?” Andy asked Nate.

Nate nodded. “Telekinesis. I can’t use it on you people either. I tried.”

“Mind compulsion? Telekinesis?” The other man said. “What the hell are you talking about? What are you even doing here? Why am _I_ here?”

Sam gestured to Nate and said, “Explain,” knowing Nate had a better chance of making them understand than him since they would have to untangle the words he was speaking to understand.

“Okay,” Nate said heavily. “I’m Nate. This is Sam. We’ve been here almost a month. We were grabbed by some people with black eyes and drugged then dumped here. There were four of us at first. Two of them died. Three more people joined us. They all died, too. We’re here because a demon wants us to be. We’ve got another man tied up in there right now”—he thumbed over his shoulder to the saloon—“because he came after us with a knife when he arrived.”

The man in fatigues narrowed his eyes and said, “Okay, and just how much pot have you smoked?”

Andy snorted and Sam sighed. “None. We have seen him. He has yellow-eyes.”

The man rolled his eyes but the woman flinched.

“You’ve seen him, too,” Sam said.

She nodded. “When it started, after… Sarah… I dreamed of a man with yellow eyes. He said I was special. He scared me.”

“Crazy,” the man muttered.

“Look…” Nate started.

“Jake,” the man supplied.

“Yeah, Jake, we’re not crazy. I thought Sam was nuts when he started talking about this stuff, too, but I’ve seen too much now to not believe. We’ve lost six people because of this. Two of them because they didn’t listen and tried to leave. One of them because she was so scared by what she saw, so desperate, that she took her own life. But we’re still here. I don’t want to see another damn body, so you can listen to us and trust us, or you can be the next person I’m digging a grave for.”

Jake squared his stance. “Are you threatening me?”

“No! I’m warning you. Come look at this.” Nate started walking away.

After a moment, Jake and Andy started to follow and Sam reached out his free hand to the woman. She backed away and her hands flew up. “Don’t touch me!”

“Sorry,” Sam said. “You don’t need to be scared of me though.”

“I’m not scared of you. You should be scared of me.”

She started away, following the group, and Sam walked after her, keeping a clear distance back so as not to crowd her.

They came to the fallen barn, and the newcomers came to a dead stop as they caught sight of Hallie and Bethan’s bodies and the barely started graves Nate had been digging.

“What did you do to them?” Jake growled.

“The barn fell on them,” Nate said. “There is another body in the forest from the hellhound. We buried the other one that it killed because Sam got him back. There was one more than we burned—Ava. That’s what happens here. Me and Sam have made it because we’ve stuck together.”

“What’s a hellhound?” Andy asked, averting his eyes from the bodies.

“It’s a monster,” Sam said. “Like a dog but more dangerous. It’s guarding the forest. If you go in there, it will kill you.”

Jake stared at the bodies and then walked toward the shovel that lay beside the closest grave and started digging.

Sam watched him for a moment, puzzled, and Jake looked up at him. “You’re crazy and for all I know you killed these poor women, but I just came from a war in which I saw too many bodies. I figure we really are trapped here if you two have stayed all that time, so I am going to see these women laid to rest as best I can before deciding what to do next.”

Sam watched the speed with which he was digging, the way the solid dirt broke under the shovel in his hand, and said, “You’re strong.”

He nodded without looking up. “I lifted a truck off of one of my buddies after it flipped. What did you get?”

“Visions,” Sam said. “Did you have a nursery fire, too?”

Jake looked blank. “Fire?”

“I did,” the woman said. “My Mom was killed.”

“Mine, too,” Andy said.

“And my nanny,” Nate added. “It’s a theme apparently.”

Andy blew out a breath. “Okay. We can’t leave through the forest because of the ‘hellhound’ and people here are killing themselves and being crushed by buildings, so what do we do?”

Nate looked at Sam and raised an eyebrow. Sam had no answer to give as he had been here weeks and found none. All he’d done in his time here was lose people. If Harrison was right, the demon only wanted one of them, so they had to fight to protect each other and hope and pray that Dean and John were coming after all.

“We don’t know yet,” Nate said. “We’re working on it.”

The woman hugged her arms around herself and said, “This is nuts. I can’t stay here.”

“And you can’t leave,” Sam said. “You _will_ die if you try.”

“Because of the hellhound?” she asked.

Sam nodded stiffly. “Yes. I know you don’t…” He trailed off as he heard laughter coming towards him from behind. He turned back to the saloon and said, “Stay together,” before running toward the building he’d left Harrison in, not knowing what he’d actually said and whether they would be able to understand enough to obey.

He rushed into the saloon and saw Harrison still bound tightly to the post but laughing hysterically. The sound both incensed and scared Sam, and he kicked him in the side to make it stop. If anything, Harrison laughed harder.

“Stop!” Sam shouted.

Harrison shook his head, tears of joy streaming down his cheeks. “It’s coming.”

Sam stood a moment, immobile and confused, and then he snatched up the poker from where it leaned against the side of the crate and ran outside again. There were only two ‘its’ he could think of, the hellhound and the Demon, and iron was the only weapon he had that he thought might hurt them even a little.

He was at the door when he heard a scream that cut off, and he pelted outside and ran towards the graves. Nate and Andy were running towards him, Andy cradling a hand to his stomach, but the blonde woman was on the ground by the grave, blood pouring from her neck. A child was bending down over her, and Jake was swinging the shovel at the child. It moved through her like smoke.

“Run, Jake!” he shouted, racing toward him, but Jake seemed frozen.

As he drew closer, the woman’s gurgling breaths stopped and she lay unmoving, and Sam was able to see the child more clearly. She was dirty and her clothes torn, but the claws at the end of her fingers were the most striking feature. She was one of the monsters Sam had read about in Bobby’s books—an Acheri Demon.  He swung the iron poker at her and she dispersed. Sam grabbed Jake’s arm and said, “Come on. Now! It might come back!”

Jake spun and sprinted to the saloon, Sam on his heels. He could still hear Harrison’s laughter, and it made his fury and frustration rise.

When they skidded inside, Andy was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, white-faced and breathing weakly, with Nate bowed over him and a wad of bandage from the first aid box pressed to his upper arm.

“Andy!” Sam gasped.

Without looking up, Nate shook his head and said, “Sam, I think…”

Sam dropped to his knees beside Andy and saw the blood soaking through the bandage Nate was holding.

“Let me though,” Jake said, shoving Nate away and grabbing the bandage, pushing it hard into Andy’s arm.

Andy cried out in pain, and Sam guessed the combination of the wound and Jake’s strength was more than he could bear.

“Give me something else to pad it,” Jake said.

Nate fumbled with the first aid kit and handed him a wad of bandage.

Jake pressed it against the wound and said, “I need a tourniquet. Get a belt.”

Sam stood up and unbuckled his belt then yanked it free and leaned over to tie it above Jake’s hands.

“Tight,” Jake instructed.

Sam looped it and yanked the two ends apart so that they cinched on Andy’s arm and then knotted them.

“What was that?” Andy asked weakly.

“Demon,” Sam said.

Andy nodded. “I think it’s killed me.”

“No! You’re going to be fine,” Sam said forcefully, though he knew it was a lie. There was nothing they could do for an injury like this. Even if Andy was in a hospital with state-of-the-art equipment, it would be unlikely. The demon’s claws had torn through an artery. He was dying.

Andy sighed. “That didn’t make any sense, but I’m pretty sure it was a lie anyway.” He closed his eyes. “I guess it figures I’d go out like this. At least it wasn’t Weber. That would have been the ultimate insult: getting killed by my psycho brother. And I stayed sane, too. That counts…” He drew a deep, shuddering breath, and released it slowly.  

Sam gripped his hand and squeezed it. Behind him, Harrison continued to laugh and he said, “Shut him up, Nate.”

There was a grunt of pain and then Harrison’s laughter became muffled and then ceased. Sam didn’t need to look back to know Nate had stuffed something in his mouth.

“This demon,” Andy said weakly. “You’re going to kill it, right?”

“Yes,” Sam said fiercely.

 Andy nodded, smiled slightly, and then bowed his head and sighed out a breath that was not followed by another.

Sam gripped his hand harder, knowing what had happened but unwilling to accept it, and stared at Andy’s white and still face.

“He’s gone,” Jake said, dropping his hands and standing up.

Sam wiped a hand gently down Andy’s face, closing his eyes, and then got to his feet and advanced on Harrison. “What did you do?”

Harrison answered, but it was muffled. Sam yanked the balled up rag out of his mouth and asked the question again.

“I warned you,” Harrison said. “I am unstoppable.”

“You killed those people?” Jake asked. “You did that?”

Harrison nodded eagerly. “I control them all. I will control you. The demons are mine. You are mine. I am his. I will be rewarded.”

“You killed them!” Jake growled, advancing on him.

Harrison smiled rapturously. “I did!”

Jake swung out a fist and slammed it into the side of Harrison’s head. Sam heard a sickening crunch and Harrison bucked in the ropes once and stilled. Jack drew back a fist to punch him again, but Sam caught his arm and held it. Jake didn’t resist. He just looked at Sam and said, “He killed them.”

“I know,” Sam said.

Nate moved closer to Harrison and pressed his fingers to the man’s throat. “And you killed him.”

Jake made no reaction other than to nod once.

“Okay,” Sam said slowly. “We all need to take a breath and…”

“And what?” Nate asked, a hint of hysteria in his voice. “What do we do now?”

Sam shook his head. He didn’t know what to do. The horror of the past day, Hallie and Bethan, Andy, the woman whose name he had never learned, was heavy on him. He felt helpless. He should have stopped Harrison somehow before he brought that demon here. The only way he could have stopped him was by killing him or knocking him out, and one of those options was not an option at all. He could not kill.

“We need to bury them,” Sam said.

“Is it safe out there?” Nate asked.

“Yes. He was controlling the Acheri—the thing that killed them. He did it. We’re safe now he’s dead.”

“For how long?” Nate asked.

Sam stared him in the eyes, wishing he could give him an answer that would reassure him. Nate had helped him, become his friend, and he’d trusted Sam. He said he believed Sam was the one that was going to save them from this. Sam had failed him the same way he’d failed them all.

“I don’t know.”

He turned away and walked outside to the end of the road where the graves and bodies were. He picked up the shovel and began to scrape at the dirt. His hand throbbed with pain, but Sam ignored it. He had bigger concerns than physical discomfort.  

He wasn’t sure how long he was left alone, but he was making progress on the grave and his hand was screaming with the pain when someone approached from behind. Sam turned and saw Nate carrying Andy’s body.

“Where’s Jake?” Sam asked.

“Inside,” Nate said. “I think he needed a little time alone after he… You know, killed that guy.”

Sam frowned. That didn’t feel right to him. Jake had shown no remorse for killing Harrison before. Why would that change now? Something was tugging at Sam, making him uncomfortable.

“I’ll go talk to him,” he said.

“I think he’d prefer to be left alone, Sam.”

“Then I’ll just get the body and leave him. He won’t want to be stuck in there with it if he’s struggling.”

He started to walk away, but Nate grabbed his arm and pulled him back. Sam faced him, seeing the strange look on Nate’s face; it was almost apologetic.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

Nate sighed. “I like you, Sam, I really do. It’s been good to have company here all this time. Waiting for the others to arrive would have been tough alone. And I don’t want to do this, but rules are rules.” He released Sam and put his hand to his back then pulled out one of the knives they’d found in a crate. It was coated in blood.

Sam stepped back. “What did you do?”

Nate raised the blade and smiled. “Kinda gory, I know, but it had to happen. Jake really was feeling something pretty deep because he didn’t even realize what I was going to do until I was slitting his throat.”

Sam backed away a step. “You killed him!”

Nate frowned. “You’re losing your words again, Sam.”

“Monster,” Sam spat.

Nate shrugged. “I’m sure whatever you’re saying is really sweet, but I’m pretty much done trying to decipher the crazy crap that comes out of your mouth. We’re the last two, see. He told me. He’s been speaking to me a long time now, telling me to bide my time, to save you for last, and the time has come. All the other towns have been dealt with. Harrison took out all the other victors. There’s only you and me left.”

Sam turned to run, but something snagged around his ankle and made him stumble. He fell hard but quickly rolled onto his back, and Nate bowed over him.

“Yeah, the whole ‘I can’t use my powers on you’ thing was a lie. It was pretty easy to hold Ava still while I cut her up. And Bethan and Hallie didn’t stand a chance of moving when I pulled the building down on us. I am getting pretty powerful, too. I could crush them while cushioning the blow on myself. I could never do that before we arrived here. This place has done a lot for me.”

Sam’s feet kicked up dirt as he tried to scramble away, but Nate held a hand over him and he felt an irresistible force holding him down.

Nate bent over him and pressed the tip of the knife to Sam’s chest. Sam tried to pull away, but he couldn’t. As Nate broke the skin slowly, savoring the moment, his legs flailed and one caught Nate’s ankle. He stumbled slightly and the knife cut across Sam’s chest, opening a cut that was shallow but that bled copiously.  

“Rude,” Nate said.

Sam kicked out again and the force holding him disappeared. He rolled and grabbed Nate’s ankle and yanked it up. Nate fell back with a huff and then there was a sick crack as his head hit the ground. Sam got to his feet and staggered away, expecting Nate to come at him again any moment, but when he was a dozen feet away, he realized he wasn’t being followed.

He turned back and saw that Nate was lying prone where he had landed, a pool of blood under his head. Scared of a trick, Sam hesitated before approaching. He had moved two steps closer to Nate when he heard a slow handclap coming to him from the forest and he spun around.

The Yellow-Eyed demon was approaching him, a wide smile on his face and delight in those sickening eyes. “You did it! I knew you could.”

“What did I do?” Sam asked.

“You won, Sammy. Nate was the last, and you killed him.”

Sam glanced back over his shoulder and saw that Nate was unmoving and his eyes were wide and staring.

“I didn’t mean to do that,” he said. “I didn’t want to kill him.”

“No? I guess you can blame the rock he landed on if you like, but I think it’s more appropriate to give you the credit. The masses are going to want a strong leader, after all.” He leaned closer and said. “You’re bleeding, Sam. We’ll take care of that in just a minute. There’s something I want from you first.”

“What do you want?” Sam asked.

The Demon shook his head. “We’re going to have to do something about those words of yours, Sam. Just because I understand what you’re saying, it doesn’t mean the others will. You and I have that special connection, but they don’t. I’ll have to get a deal made.” He clapped his hand together. “That’s for later. This is for now. I’ve got something to show you.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small envelope. In spite of himself, Sam took it and tore it open then tipped it over his hand. A necklace that Sam knew very well fell into his hand, bloodied and the cord torn. It was the necklace he’d given Dean for Christmas one year when they were kids, the necklace Dean had never taken off since.

He swallowed hard. “Where did you get that?”

“I took it off his body after my children had finished playing with him. I didn’t get anything from your father or the old man. I thought about an ear, but that seemed a little over the top to me.”

Sam shook his head jerkily. “They’re not dead.”

The demon smiled. “No? Then how do I have this?” he reached into his pocket again pulled out an antique gun that made Sam’s heart sink and his breaths come fast. It was the Colt.

“They didn’t give it up easy,” the Demon said. “It took a lot for them to tell me where it was. Dean was already dead, and Daddy so desperately wanted to know where you were. We dealt—the colt for information. I gave the information and then put him and the old man out of their misery soon after. Technically, I wasn’t breaking rules as the information _was_ delivered.”

Sam closed his eyes and warm tears slid down his cheeks. He believed him. They would not have given up the Colt without a fight. And if Dean was dead, John would have done anything. He had been willing to make a demon deal to give Sam his voice back. He would have given the Colt to know where Sam was. His family was dead.

A sob built in his throat.

“Yeah, hard times alright,” the Demon said. “You’re all alone now. But you don’t have to be, Sammy. You’re the champion of this little Thunderdome, so I’m going to make you an offer. I will give them back to you if you do a little something for me.”

Sam sucked in a breath. “You’ll bring them back?”

“I will, and not just them. Mom and sweet little Jess can have a second chance, too. Everyone you love back for one little job.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to open a door for starters. There’s a place in Wyoming that I need you to go to. You’ll find a cemetery there with a very special crypt. You will put the gun in the door, give it a twirl, and then… Well, then the fun can really start. They’ll be back before you know it, and the world will be ours to conquer. Just open a door. What do you think?”

Sam nodded eagerly and said, “I’ll do it,” without hesitation. “As long as you bring them all back.”

The Demon looked amused. “That was fast. I thought you’d want a little time to mull it over.”

Sam shook his head. “I need them back, all of them. I’ll do it for them.”

The demon nodded slowly. “Yeah, I think you really will. Here we go.” He held out the gun to Sam and said. “Fossil Butte Cemetery. I won’t be able to meet you there, but once that door is open, I’ll come find you. The rest of your family will be there soon after.”

Sam took the gun and flipped open the chamber. There were three bullets in there. He flipped it closed again and said, “I’ll be there.”

The Demon nodded. “I knew you were the one I needed. You’re of good stock, you have the training, and you’ve got the right motivation now. When they come back, your family are going to be mighty proud of you, Sam.”

“Yeah,” Sam said quietly. “I think they will.”

His hand snapped up and he pointed the gun directly between the Demon’s eyes. Before the Demon could do more than open his mouth to speak, Sam pulled the trigger and sent the bullet into the Demon’s head. His head flew back as it hit, and yellow light crackled around the wound and then seemed to spread across his body, making him glow and spark.

Sam stared at him, watching the light show, only breathing again when the Demon’s body dropped to the ground and the light died away.

Sam stood over him, staring down at the face he hated more than any other.

The Demon was dead, the target for his family for Sam’s whole life had been met, but Sam was alone. His family were dead. He had done what they would have wanted him to do, he’d stopped the Demon and saved the world from whatever hell would pour through the door Sam was supposed to open, but the pain of what had happened and what he had lost made Sam’s head swim.

His knees buckled and he fell to his knees, cradling the colt and Dean’s necklace to his chest, his head hanging and tears streaming down his cheeks. He was alone now: his family dead, the woman he loved never coming back. He had lost everything he loved.

The Demon’s death didn’t seem to matter as much in comparison to that.

He lifted the hand that was holding Dean’s necklace to his cheek and began to sob. 


	5. Chapter 5

Sam lost track of time as he kneeled on the ground, trying to work through his pain, but his wounded chest had stopped bleeding and his hands were numb with cold when his thoughts started to make sense again. There were things he needed to do, bodies he needed to deal with.

Somewhere out there, probably at Bobby’s place, were what remained of his family, and here there were the bodies of the Demon’s victims. He may not have raised his hand to them, but it was because of him that they were dead. Sam needed to lay them all to rest.

He got to his feet and looked around. He didn’t have the energy or will to dig graves for them all, and he didn’t have the time. He wanted to get to Sioux Falls and lay his own people to rest. He would build them proper pyres and give them hunters’ funerals. That would be what they would have wanted. He didn’t know what he would do after, but that didn’t matter. He didn’t need to know yet. He just had to concentrate on the smaller things to keep him moving.

He picked up Hallie’s body and carried it back to the saloon where they had made their home for the weeks they’d been there. When he entered, he saw Jake’s body lying in a large pool of blood. The deep wound in his neck looked like a smile. His eyes were closed and he looked almost peaceful. Sam didn’t want to think of it, but he wondered what his last moments had been like. Had he been ready for the end? It upset Sam that no one would ever know what had happened to him. His family could never bury him. Nor could Hallie’s or Bethan’s, Andy’s or the woman whose name he’d never taken the time to learn. They would be mystery disappearances that would haunt their loved ones who they’d left behind for a long time, maybe forever.

Sam was almost jealous of their quick ends. Had he not been the last survivor of both the conflict and the demon, if he’d not killed the monster that had set this in motion, he would have wished to have the same quick end as Nate’s other victims. There was nothing and no one left in the world for him anymore.

He laid Hallie next to Jake and moved Andy so he was with them, too, leaving Harrison bound to the post, then went back for the others. Bethan and the woman he hadn’t known the name of were carried in and laid down beside the others. Nate and the Demons’ meatsuit were kept apart. He was tempted to leave Nate outside to rot and be picked over by animals, but he knew that was petty revenge. Nate hadn’t always been a murderer. He’d probably been a good person before this started. The Demon was the one to blame for what he had become. Whatever he had shown or told Nate had changed him. The Demon’s meatsuit deserved to be dealt with because he was at no fault for what had happened. He’d just been a man that the Demon had chosen to possess.

When he was done, he went outside to collect the planks of the fallen barn and carried them inside and laid them over and around the bodies. He wanted the fire to catch and burn fast.

When it was ready, he took the box of matches from his pocket and lit small pieces of kindling and placed them around the pile. The wood was old and dry and it caught quickly. Sam watched from the door for a moment and then whispered an apology and went outside.

He watched as the flames licked through the glassless windows and then caught the walls, the heat forcing him back until he was in the middle of the road, and he tried to prepare himself for what he had to do next.

He was sure the hellhound would be gone now since its master was dead, so he had to escape the town and find a way back to Sioux Falls. A more painful task awaited him there, terrible goodbyes to make, and then he would allow himself to stop and rest.

He watched the fire, trying to make himself turn away and move on, when he heard a sound that convinced him he had finally lost the last piece of himself that he had been clinging to. He had lost his mind.

There was no other explanation for the fact he could hear Dean calling his name.

xXx

Dean stumbled as he ran up the dirt road, his feet skidding on the mud. He still felt a little lightheaded from the blow to the head he’d received, but his need to get to Sam overpowered his wish to rest.

It was their own fault. They’d not been careful enough. John and Dean had the Colt out of the safe and John was examining it while Bobby tried to scry for the Demon yet again. There had been shouts of laughter and then the demons had descended.

It had been fast. The traps under the doors had been burned with acid, breaking the lines of paint, and the demons had come in. John had been on his feet first, stepping in front of Dean to protect him, and he’d been the first knocked out. Dean had grabbed for the colt, but the female demon had been faster. She’d grabbed it and Dean’s necklace, ripping it from his neck, then ran before Dean could do more than cry out in shock. The demon that had knocked John out had aimed for Dean next, the hilt of a knife poised to collide with his head, and Dean had stepped into the blow in order to defeat it. He’d taken the hit but his forward momentum had caught the demon around the waist and knocked it into the range of the devil’s trap Bobby had painted on the ceiling.

Bobby had been on his feet with holy water, driving back the demon that had been targeting him, and it had turned and run. Bobby had turned his attention to John, rousing him, while Dean, satisfied his father was being taken care of, had picked up the bottle of holy water from the desk and gotten to work on the demon.

In the weeks since Sam had been taken, Dean had been searching for him, having Ash track his cards and search hospital admissions, and Dean had been tracking demons to question. John hadn’t helped Dean question them about Sam as he was sure he had taken off on his own and felt that they had more pressing issues to deal with, like finding the Demon and using the Colt on it; his questions had been about the location of Yellow-Eyes.

Neither of them had made any progress, and Dean was having trouble dealing with the stress of it. He was sure Sam was out there somewhere, needing him, and he wasn’t giving up until he found him.

Now the Colt gone, so he fixed his will on his own mission again, knowing they would deal with the loss of the Colt when Sam was with them to help.

He had questioned the demon for an hour, long after John had woken up and started asking his own questions, before it broke and told them both what they wanted to know.

The Colt would be with the Demon. The Demon was in a place called Cold Oak. The Demon would be with Sam.

Bobby had known the place so they’d piled into the Impala and Dean had sped them there. They’d driven until they’d been forced to stop by a tree that had fallen in the road and then set out on foot.

“You smell that?” Bobby panted, running at Dean’s back with John.

“Smoke,” John said. “Something’s burning.”

Dean sped his pace, powering away from his father and Bobby, running along the track and calling for his brother. If there was fire, someone had set it, and Dean had to believe it was set by Sam not by the Demon.

He skidded around a corner and saw the most amazing sight. There was a long street of rickety buildings that looked like they’d been abandoned a century ago, and one of them was burning. Outside of the burning building was a tall man with too long hair.

“Sammy!”

Sam turned and Dean pelted towards him, taking in the sight of his brother. He’d grown a beard and his hair and clothes were filthy. His face was smudged with dirt, but more pressing was the blood on his front.

“Jesus, Sammy, you’re hurt!” he said when he reached him, pushing apart Sam’s jacket and lifting his shirt to see a long but shallow wound.

Sam stepped back, his eyes wide and stunned, and said, “Dean? You’re alive?”

The shock of hearing Sam’s voice after so long, speaking words that he could understand, overpowered the confusion of the question, and he grabbed his shoulders and said, “Are you okay? What happened?”

Wide-eyed with shock, Sam touched Dean’s cheek with a look of wonder and then grabbed him and yanked him into a hug that knocked the breath out of Dean’s lungs.

“He said you were dead,” Sam breathed.

Dean heard John and Bobby’s footsteps behind him and Sam stiffened and then whispered, “Dad?”

Dean pulled back and Sam stepped around him like a man in a daze, falling against his father and starting to cry. John looked astounded as he soothed Sam with words and a hand on his back, saying, “It’s okay, Sam. We’ve got you. You’re going to be okay now.”

Sam clung to his father for a long time and then stepped back and said, “How are you alive? He said you were all dead.”

“I think a bigger question is how you’re talking,” Bobby said.

Sam huffed a laugh and wiped at his tear streaked cheeks. “It’s been happening a while. It’s hard and doesn’t always come out right. But it’s getting better all the time.”

Dean was shocked that he was able to understand enough of the words Sam spoke to take the meaning from them.

John shook his head, his eyes wet, and then he said, “Who told you we were dead?” He stiffened. “Sammy, have you seen the Demon? Was he here?”

Sam reached into the back of his pants and pulled out a familiar antique gun. “He was here,” he said with a smile. “I killed him.”

John frowned. “You… Was that right? Did you…” He gripped Sam’s shoulders and locked eyes with him. “Did you kill him, Sam?”

Sam nodded, his eyes bright with happiness. “He’s dead. It’s over.”

John swayed and steadied himself on Sam and then did something Dean had no memory of him doing since he was a small child. He threw an arm around Sam and dragged Dean over with the other. He hugged them both to him and began to sob. Bobby laid a comforting hand on John’s back and then stepped away to give them a moment as a family as he wiped his own eyes.

“It’s over,” John choked. “He’s dead.”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “He’s not the only one. He’s responsible for a lot of deaths here and elsewhere, there were a lot of us, but he’s finally gone. He can’t hurt anyone else.”

Dean felt tears burning his own eyes and he buried his face in his father’s shoulder.

The Demon was dead. The mission of almost his whole life was over. Mary Winchester had been avenged. And he had his family with him. They’d all survived.

It really was over.


End file.
